**>/* 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 


CAUK. 


OH,  MARY,  BE  CAREFUL! 

BY  GEORGE  WESTON 

7  DELIGHTFUL  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY  R.  M.  CROSBY 

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"Frivolously  joyful.      More  joyful  moments  than 
belong  to  a  single  story." — The  New  York  World. 

"  Rollicking,  amusing  tale." — Springfield  Homestead. 

Uniform  in  Style  and  Character 
with  "Oh,  Mary,  Be  Careful" 

THE  ROSE-GARDEN  HUSBAND 

BY  MARGARET  WIDDEMER 

ILLUSTRATED  BY  WALTER  BIGGS 

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"  One  loves  to  read  it,  then  pass  it  on  to  others." 

— Dixie  Home  Magazine. 

"A  sparkling,  rippling  little  tale." — Net*  York  Times. 


"  OH,  NEIL,  i  CAN'T  !    TOU  DON'T  UNDERSTAND  ! " 

Page  90 


THE 

APPLE-TREE 
GIRL 

THE  STORY  OF  LITTLE  MISS 
MOSES,  WHO  LED  HERSELF 
INTO  THE  PROMISED  LAND 

BY 

GEORGE  WESTON 

AUTHOR  OF  "OH,   MART,   BH   CAREFUL!"  ETC. 

WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY  F.  R.  GRUGER 


PHILADELPHIA  AND  LONDON 
J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 

1918 


COPTKIGHT,  1917,  BT  GEORGE  WE8TOX 
COPYRIGHT,  1918,  BT  J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 


PUBLISHED   FEBRUARY,    1918 


PRINTED  BT  J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY 

AT  THE  WASHINGTON  SQUARE  PRESS 

PHILADELPHIA,  U.  B.  A. 


THIS  BOOK  IS  AFFECTIONATELY 
DEDICATED  TO    MY    MOTHER 
0.  W. 


2133529 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


"On,  NEIL,  I  CAN'T!    You  DON'T  UNDERSTAND!" 

Frontispiece 

SHE  GAZED  UPON  HER  PROFILE  FOR  THE  FIRST 
TIME  IN  HER  LIFE — GAZED  UPON  IT  IN  SILENCE  23 

"WELL,  CHARLOTTE'S  GONE  AND  FELL  IN  LOVE 
WITH  HIM!" 37 

WHEN  IT  WAS  OVER  CHARLOTTE  KNEW  THAT  THE 
MARTIN  CREAMERY  COMPANY  HAD  GONE  INTO 
BANKRUPTCY 53 

"!'M  GLAD  HE'S  GETTING  ON  so  WELL,"  SAID  CHAR- 
LOTTE, POLITELY 73 

LADY  SALISBURY'S  CRITICAL  EYE  WAS  FOLLOWING 
HER  LIKE  A  SEARCHLIGHT .  107 


THE 
APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

CHAPTER  I 

SHE  was  such  an  old-fashioned  little 
thing ! 

"And  ever  likely  to  be  old-fashioned," 
said  Aunt  Hepzibah,  "  born  up  here  at 
Marlin  Mills  and  raised,  as  a  body  might 
say,  right  in  the  shadow  of  Micah's  apple 
tree!" 

I  smiled  at  Aunt  Hepzibah  then ;  but 
thinking  it  over  now,  I  begin  to  see  that 
the  wonderful  things  which  happened 
to  Charlotte  Marlin  might  never  have 
taken  place  if  it  hadn't  been  for  the 
history  of  Marlin  Mills  and  the  story  of 
Micah's  apple  tree. 

In  its  day  Marlin  Mills  had  been  one 
of  the  prettiest  and  happiest  of  villages. 
Even  now  it  has  an  avenue  of  elms  by 
9 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

the  side  of  the  river,  which  is  worth 
going  many  a  mile  to  see.  History  tells 
us  that  Lafayette  once  walked  beneath 
those  elms  and  talked  with  Washing- 
ton. Five  years  before  that  Nathan 
Hale  walked  under  them,  too,  in  the 
winter  when  he  taught  the  school  at 
Marlin  Mills.  Yes,  and  many  a  beau 
and  many  a  belle  enjoyed  their  shade  in 
the  days  when  gentlemen  powdered 
their  hair  and  wore  lace  cuffs,  and  the 
ladies  dressed  themselves  in  panniers 
and  danced  the  minuet. 

Perhaps  at  night,  when  the  mists  arise 
from  the  river  and  wreathe  themselves 
among  the  elms,  these  couples  walk 
again,  re-living  hours  so  happy  that  they 
wish  to  make  them  immortal.  For  my- 
self, I  know  if  I  were  a  ghost  I  would 
like  nothing  better  than  to  walk  under 
the  old  Marlin  elms  with  the  spirit  of 
one  I  had  loved,  and  where  the  moon 
shone  through  the  trees  to  give  my  part- 
ner a  stately  bow  and  dance  the  minuet. 
10 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

And  the  beauty  of  it  is,  no  living  soul 
would  be  likely  to  interrupt  us,  for  the 
history  of  Marlin  Mills  is  nearly  fin- 
ished ;  its  houses  are  falling  in  ruins,  and 
it  won't  be  many  years  now  before  the 
last  of  the  Old  Guard  will  either  move 
or  (with  greater  dignity)  be  moved 
away. 

To  the  east  of  the  village  is  a  hill, 
flat-topped  and  stony,  and  on  the  top  of 
this  hill,  overlooking  the  village  below, 
stands  the  Marlin  farm  and  homestead 
— the  place  where  my  heroine  was  born. 

Charlotte,  my  heroine,  was  six  years 
old  when  she  heard  the  story  of  Micah's 
apple  tree,  and  I  will  tell  it  to  you 
exactly  as  it  was  told  to  her. 

Aunt  Hepzibah  was  out  at  the  time, 
and  Ma'm  Bazin  was  ironing  in  the 
kitchen.  Ma'm  Bazin  was  their  hired 
girl — a  French-Canadienne  of  about 
fifty,  enormously  fat,  full  of  sentiment 
and  blessed  with  the  gift  of  tongues. 
That  afternoon  Charlotte  had  gone  into 
11 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

the  kitchen  holding  her  hands  behind 
her.  She  watched  Ma'm  Bazin  for  a 
time  in  her  old-fashioned  way  and  then, 
holding  out  her  hands,  she  said:  "  Look! 
Why  do  they  call  these  Micah's 
apples?" 

She  had  in  her  hand  two  apples. 
They  were  of  a  pale — I  had  almost  said 
a  sad — color ;  but  here  and  there  on  the 
skin  were  small,  raised  spots  of  the  shape 
and  color  of  red  currants. 

"Hush!"  cautioned  Ma'm  Bazin. 
She  tiptoed  to  the  hall  door,  enormously 
fat  but  full  of  sentiment,  and  then  she 
made  sure  that  no  one  was  in  the  yard. 
As  I  have  said,  Charlotte  was  six  years 
old,  and  you  can  imagine  how  she  was 
impressed  by  "these  maneuvers. 

"  Nearly  two  hundred  years  ago,"  be- 
gan Ma'm  Bazin,  "  on  this  very  farm, 
lived  a  farmer  named  Sowers  and  his 
four  sons.  They  were  lazy  fellows,  who 
do  nothing  but  sit  around  and  complain 
that  a  honest  man  he  cannot  prosper 

12 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

any  more.  The  only  work  they  do  is  to 
plant  an  orchard,  being  fond  of  the 
cider,  and  in  the  middle  of  the  orchard 
there  is  one  tree — a  bittersweet — bear- 
ing very  fine  apples  which  everyone  ad- 
mires. It  is  a  pale  apple  and  of  such 
peculiar  flavor  that  when  the  frost  she 
has  come  the  neighbors  drop  in  to  say  the 
good  word,  and  always  they  stroll  in  the 
orchard  to  fill  their  pockets  from  the 
bittersweet  tree. 

"  As  the  years  go  on,  Meester  Sowers 
and  his  four  sons  drink  more  and  more 
of  the  cider  and  get  more  and  more  into 
debt,  till  one  day  the  sheriff  rap-a-rap- 
rap  on  this  very  door  and  say,  if  the 
taxes  are  not  paid  by  the  first  of  the  year 
the  place  will  be  sold  and  they  thrown 
out  in  the  cold,  cold  world,  lamenting. 
Whereat  they  look  at  each  other  and  cry 
in  a  rage  that  the  honest  man  he  can- 
not prosper  any  more. 

"  The  next  day  is  Christmas  Eve,  and 
just  after  dark  another  visitor  comes 

13 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

rap-a-rap-rap  on  the  door.  He  has  a 
pack  on  his  back  and  they  see  it  is 
Micah,  the  peddler,  who  pass'  that  way 
every  winter.  In  those  days,  my  dear, 
peddlers  are  well  known  for  the  money 
they  carry,  because  the  world  she  is  poor 
and  honest,  and  the  banks  have  not  yet 
come. 

"  Micah  asks  if  he  can  stay  for  the 
night,  and  if  nobody  ever  sees  him  again, 
nobody  knows  and  nobody  cares.  For 
a  peddler  he  is  here  to-day  and  gone  to- 
morrow. It  is  only  known  that  a  few 
days  later  Meester  Sowers  pays  his  tax 
and  other  debts,  and  no  one  notices  that 
there  is  one  spot  in  the  orchard  where 
he  and  his  sons  they  will  never  cast  their 
eye. 

"  The  months  they  come  and  the 
months  they  go,  till  the  frost  she  falls 
again.  Then  the  neighbors  drop  in  to 
say  the  good  word  and  stroll  in  the 
orchard  to  fill  their  pockets  from  the 
bittersweet  tree.  But  presently  they 

14 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

return  with  the  full  gallop  and  a  visage 
white.  *  Look ! '  they  cry.  '  These  ap- 
ples, so  pale  before,  are  covered  with 
spots  like  blood ! ' 

"  What  Meester  Sowers  say  then  I 
do  not  know,  but  the  neighbors  run  back 
to  the  tree  with  shovels  and  picks.  There 
in  his  grave  at  last  they  find  poor  Micah, 
and  always  after  that  it  is  called  Micah's 
tree  and  Micah's  apples,  and  always 
after  that  these  spots  appear  as  a  wit- 
ness that  the  sin  which  is  buried  at  the 
foot  of  a  tree  it  shall  make  itself  known 
in  the  fruit." 

It  is  an  old  wives'  tale,  of  course,  like 
the  stories  of  fairies  and  witchcraft  which 
you  heard  when  you  were  a  child  and 
which  have  been  told  to  children  since 
time  immemorial,  yet  it's  a  tale  which  is 
believed  more  than  doubted  throughout 
our  part  of  Eastern  Connecticut.  So  if 
it  had  its  effect  on  Charlotte's  mind,  es- 
pecially when  she  looked  out  of  her 
window  and  gazed  at  Micah's  tree,  I 

15 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

don't  think  you  can  greatly  blame  her, 
or  wonder  if  it  helped  to  make  her  more 
old-fashioned  than  ever. 

Such  was  the  atmosphere  in  which 
she  grew  up. 

Below  the  farm  was  Marlin  Mills,  its 
houses  falling  in,  and  columbines  and 
ragged  robins  growing  among  the  ruins 
of  the  dam.  A  handful  of  children  still 
attended  the  school  where  Nathan  Hale 
once  taught ;  but  every  year  the  number 
decreased,  and  every  year  a  new  teacher 
had  to  be  found  to  brave  the  increasing 
loneliness.  And  when  Charlotte  re- 
turned home  from  school  and  walked 
past  the  orchard,  Micah's  tree  was  wait- 
ing to  remind  her  why  old  houses  creak 
at  night  and  why  the  wind  howls  down 
the  chimney  at  times  with  such  a  note. 
And  when  she  went  in  the  house  there 
was  her  father,  old  Moses  Marlin,  a 
grim,  gaunt  man  who  had  never  quite 
forgiven  her  because  she  wasn't  a  boy. 

There  are  times,  indeed,  when  I,  too, 

16 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

have  wished  that  she  had  been  a  boy,  be- 
cause she  would  probably  have  made  a 
great  inventor,  or  an  even  greater  poet, 
brought  up  in  such  an  incomparable  en- 
vironment. Yet  on  second  thoughts  I 
am  always  glad  that  she  was  a  girl,  be- 
cause inventors  and  poets  we  have  in 
plenty,  but  never  before,  I  believe,  did 
a  girl  set  out  on  such  a  scale  as  Charlotte 
did  to  lead  herself,  a  little  Miss  Moses, 
into  the  Promised  Land. 

As  soon  as  she  had  mastered  her 
Third  Reader  she  gradually  developed 
into  a  bookworm,  one  of  the  most  in- 
dustrious little  bookworms  imaginable. 

"  She  was  ten  years  old  then,"  said 
Aunt  Hepzibah,  "  a  spindly  young  'un 
with  her  hair  in  two  pigtails,  but  bright 
as  a  button,  even  if  she  was  so  quiet. 
'Pears  to  me  there  were  years  when  I 
never  see  her  unless  she  had  a  book  in 
her  hand.  She  seemed  to  live  and  eat 
and  sleep  with  the  people  she  read  about. 
Times  there'd  be  tears  in  her  eyes,  and 

2  17 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

times  she'd  burst  out  laughing. '  What's 
the  matter  now? '  I'd  ask  her.  '  Oh,  it's 
so  funny! '  she'd  say,  and  curl  up  'round 
the  book  again  as  if  she'd  never  let  go." 
It  was  up  at  the  old  Marlin  farm 
where  Aunt  Hepzibah  told  me  these 
things,  and,  after  I  had  gathered  a  few 
of  Micah's  apples,  she  let  me  look  at  the 
books  which  Charlotte  had  read.  There 
was  a  set  of  Longfellow,  and  one  of 
Dickens,  and  Hawthorne  was  there  be- 
tween Charles  Reade  and  the  Waverley 
Novels — good,  old-fashioned  sets  of  that 
half-morocco  binding  in  which  our 
grandfathers  seemed  to  take  such  deep 
delight.  It  didn't  require  much  imagi- 
nation to  picture  Charlotte  "  curled  up  " 
in  her  chair  by  the  window,  laughing 
over  Sam  Weller,  or  her  eyes  filling  with, 
tears  as  she  followed  the  fortunes  of 
Evangeline.  And  when  the  twilight 
came  I  think  we  can  both  imagine  her 
laying  her  book  aside  and  looking  out  of 
the  window  at  Micah's  tree  .  .  . 

18 


and  the  village  below  .  .  .  and  the 
sunset  over  the  far-off  hills  .  .  . 
dreaming  the  dreams  which  you  used  to 
dream  when  you  were  a  child,  and  all 
unconsciously  preparing  herself  for  the 
quest  of  the  Promised  Land. 

In  short,  if  you  had  searched  the 
country  over  it  is  doubtful  if  you  could 
have  found  a  scene — or  a  girl — more 
conducive  to  the  growth  of  Romance. 
And  as  she  grew  older,  and  her  dresses 
grew  longer,  and  her  straight  lines  and 
angles  began  to  turn  into  tender  young 
curves,  she  often  found  herself  dream- 
ing the  Golden  Dream  of  how  the  prince 
would  presently  come  to  court  her. 

Charlotte  finished  school  in  her 
fifteenth  year,  the  one  bright  star  in  a 
small,  dim  lot  of  j  ewels.  Twelve  months 
before  her  father  had  taken  to  his  bed 
and  died  in  the  same  grim  way  he  had 
lived,  knowing  himself  the  last  of  the 
Marlins  and  never  quite  forgiving  her 
because  she  wasn't  a  boy.  It  was  nearly 

19 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

a  year  before  they  found  his  will,  and 
then  it  was  discovered  that  he  had  left 
Charlotte  the  farm,  and  ten  thousand 
dollars  in  the  bonds  of  a  creamery  com- 
pany which  he  had  formed  in  the  hope 
of  restoring  to  the  village  some  measure 
of  its  past  prosperity.  After  a  family 
council  following  the  reading  of  the  will, 
it  was  decided  that  Charlotte  should  con- 
tinue her  education  by  going  to  the  Pen- 
field  High  School,  Penfield  being  the 
nearest  town  and  Aunt  Grace  living 
there  with  a  daughter  of  Charlotte's  age, 
who  was  also  going  to  start  at  the  high 
school  that  same  year. 

'  The  change  will  do  her  good,  poor 
child!  "  said  Aunt  Harriet,  a  stout  lady 
with  a  critical  eye  and  a  deep  voice. 

Charlotte  was  out  in  the  hall,  quietly 
dusting  a  picture  which  Aunt  Grace 
was  going  to  take  away  with  her,  but 
her  relations  didn't  dream  that  she  was 
so  close  at  hand. 

"  She's  a  nice  child,"  said  Uncle  Ezra. 
20 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

"  But,"  said  Aunt  Grace,  "  so  old- 
fashioned!  " 

"  She's  a  loving  little  thing!  "  warmly 
cried  Aunt  Hepzibah.  "  You've  no  idea 
how  I  shall  miss  her  when  she's  gone." 

Hearing  that  from  her  station  in  the 
hall  Charlotte  felt  her  heart  go  out  to 
Aunt  Hepzibah,  and  she  was  just  on  the 
point  of  going  in  to  her  complimentary 
relations  when  they  started  talking 
again. 

"She's  a  regular  little  old  maid!" 
said  Uncle  Ezra. 

"  Well,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  think 
it's  pretty  lucky  she's  got  that  money," 
said  Aunt  Grace. 

"  Just  what  I've  been  thinking — poor 
child!"  said  Aunt  Harriet;  and,  drop- 
ping her  voice  to  its  deepest  note,  she 
added:  "  Isn't  she  homely! " 


CHAPTER  II 

UP  to  that  moment  it  is  doubtful  if 
Charlotte  had  ever  felt  the  least  misgiv- 
ing about  her  personal  appearance ;  but, 
as  you  will  realize,  she  had  reached  the 
age  where  such  things  count,  and  when 
she  looked  at  herself  in  the  mirror  that 
night  she  stared  very  solemnly  indeed. 

A  healthy  young  face  stared  at  her— 
a  face  lit  up  by  deeply  tender  eyes,  ex- 
pressive eyebrows  and  rosy  cheeks.  And 
if  she  had  the  Marlin  nose,  which  was 
inclined  to  be  beaky,  and  the  Marlin 
chin,  which  was  inclined  to  be  sensitive, 
for  my  part  I  think  they  added  character 
to  her  face,  and,  if  I  had  been  in  Char- 
lotte's place,  I  wouldn't  have  minded 
them  one  bit. 

"  I  don't  see  what's  the  matter,"  she 
thought,  still  staring  at  herself.  "  I 
look  the  same  as  I  always  do." 


SHE     GAZED     UPON    HER    PROFILE     FOR    THE     FIRST     TIME 
IN    HER    LIFE GAZED    UPON    IT    IN    SILENCE 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

But  that  morning  she  had  watched 
Aunt  Grace  arrange  her  hair  with  the 
aid  of  two  mirrors,  and  it  gave  her  an 
idea.  She  ran  down  to  the  kitchen, 
where  a  little  square  mirror  hung  over 
the  sink.  This  she  took  to  her  room, 
and  then,  standing  sideways  in  front  of 
her  dresser,  she  gazed  upon  her  profile 
for  the  first  time  in  her  life — gazed  upon 
it  in  silence,  as  though  she  were  scrutiniz- 
ing a  stranger  who  had  come  to  live  with 
her  and  whom  she  didn't  know  whether 
she  was  going  to  like  or  not. 

"  It's  my  nose,"  she  finally  told  her- 
self in  a  voice  that  had  a  little  break  in 
it.  "  And  my  chin.'* 

Poor  Charlotte !  Up  till  then,  you  see, 
she  had  taken  her  beauty  for  granted, 
the  same  as  she  had  taken  the  length  of 
her  hair  and  the  brightness  of  her  eyes ; 
and  then  suddenly  to  find  that  her  nose 
was  beaky  like  her  father's  had  been, 
that  her  chin  was  inclined  to  favor  his 
too,  and  that  a  supposedly  loving  aunt 

23 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

could  stare  around  a  room  full  of  rela- 
tions and  whisper  "  Isn't  she  homely?  " 

For  a  long  time  she  lay  amid  the  ruins 
of  her  dreams,  staring  up  into  the  dark, 
and  with  such  a  heavy  feeling  in  her 
tender,  young  breast!  As  long  as  she 
could  remember  she  had  lived  in  a  land 
of  romance  where  all  the  men  were  hand- 
some and  all  the  maids  were  fair;  and 
when  she  had  dreamed  of  the  future,  as 
girls  have  dreamed  since  time  imme- 
morial, she  had  always  imagined  her 
prince  riding  along  under  the  old  Mar- 
lin  elms,  meeting  her  and  falling  in  love 
with  her  at  sight — suddenly  stopping, 
his  hand  upon  his  heart — because  she  was 
so  young  and  sweet  and  beautiful! 

"  And  wouldn't  it  be  awful  now,"  she 
thought,  almost  sitting  up  in  bed  with 
the  horror  of  it,  "  if  no  man  ever  looked 
at  me  because  I'm  homely,  and  if  I  had 
to  live  and  die — a  lonely  old  maid!  " 

Next  morning  Aunt  Hepzibah  came 
up  to  help  her  pack,  for  it  had  been  de- 

24 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

tided  that  she  should  go  to  Penfield  with 
her  Aunt  Grace. 

Charlotte  was  very  quiet  for  a  time. 
"  Oh,  Aunt  Hepzy,"  she  said  at  last, 
"  have  you  ever  seen  my  cousin  in  Pen- 
field,  my  cousin  Margaret? " 

"  Twice,"  nodded  Aunt  Hepzibah. 
"  Why? " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know.    Is  she  pretty?  " 

"  Pretty  as  paint,"  said  Aunt  Hep- 
zibah promptly.  '  Why? " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know.  I  was  wonder- 
ing; that's  all." 

"  Well,  you'll  see  her  soon  enough. 
Prettiest  girl  in  Penfield;  everybody 
says  so.  Alms  reminds  me  of  Little 
Eva  in  *  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin  ' — and  as 
false  as  a  wagonload  of  monkeys,"  con- 
cluded Aunt  Hepzibah,  with  that  im- 
partiality of  opinion  which  is  relation- 
ship's most  radiant  star. 

"  *  False  as  a  wagonload  of  mon- 
keys '  ?  Why— Aunt— Hepzy !  " 

"  Well,  I  dunno  as  I  ought  to  have 

25 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

said  that.  She  may  have  changed  since 
I  saw  her  last.  Anyhow,  you'll  see  her 
soon  enough ;  and  after  you've  been  there 
a  month  or  two  you  write  and  tell  me 
what  you  think." 

As  you  can  imagine  from  that,  when 
Mr.  Briggs'  surrey  reached  Penfield 
that  afternoon  and  turned  down  Maple 
Avenue,  Charlotte  was  all  eyes  to  see, 
all  perceptions  to  perceive;  and  when 
Aunt  Grace  said  "  That's  our  house, 
next  to  where  the  man  is  raking  leaves, 
and — I  declare! — there's  Margaret 
standing  on  the  lawn,"  Charlotte  felt  as 
excited  as  though  she  were  witnessing 
her  first  play.  Margaret  was  a  blonde 
with  a  complexion  like  the  bloom  on  an 
Elberta  peach,  and  features  which  would 
have  reminded  you  of  those  bisque  shep- 
herdesses with  which  our  grandmothers 
used  to  adorn  their  mantel  shelves.  Al- 
though both  her  parents  were  average 
folks,  Margaret's  figure  and  attitudes 
and  manner  were  marked  with  a  delicate 

26 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

grace,  and  her  expression,  especially 
when  a  stranger  turned  to  look  at  her, 
had  the  supernal  innocence  which  is  gen- 
erally associated  with  that  picture  of  the 
little  choir  boy  who  is  singing  his  Christ- 
mas carol  in  a  beam  of  light.  But  all 
her  life  her  parents,  helped  by  the  people 
of  Penfield,  had  unconsciously  conspired 
to  spoil  her,  and  as  you've  probably 
guessed  from  what  Aunt  Hepzibah  said, 
they  hadn't  labored  in  vain. 

From  the  first  hour  of  Charlotte's 
arrival  it  seemed  to  be  her  part  to  act  as 
a  foil  for  her  cousin's  prettiness.  And 
how  Margaret  enjoyed  it!  If  you  were 
to  hear  all  the  ingenious  little  tricks  she 
did  to  shine  at  Charlotte's  expense  it 
would  make  it  too  long  a  chapter.  Be- 
sides, you  have  probably  seen  the  way 
such  things  are  done,  for  they  seem  to 
be  a  part  of  human  nature,  like  criticiz- 
ing the  minister  or  pretending  that  one 
never  eats  in  the  kitchen.  You  will  also 
probably  understand  that,  as  time  went 

27 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

on,  Charlotte  found  herself  thrown 
more  and  more  upon  the  resources  of  her 
own  company.  She  said  little,  but  she 
used  that  old-fashioned  head  of  hers  a 
great  deal ;  and,  having  such  a  criterion 
of  beauty  with  which  to  compare  herself, 
it  didn't  take  her  long  to  make  up  her 
mind  on  one  important  question. 

"  I  guess  Aunt  Harriet  was  right," 
she  sighed  one  night,  looking  at  her  re- 
flection in  the  mirror  after  she  had 
brushed  her  hair.  "I'll  never  be  pretty, 
or  at  least  I'll  never  be  pretty  like 
Margaret  is.  Oh,  well,"  and  she  drew 
another  deep  sigh,  "  if  you're  not  pretty 
you've  got  to  be  smart.  So  I  guess  I've 
just  got  to  be  smart!  " 

And,  whether  or  not  it  was  nature's 
compensation,  her  studies  seemed  to 
come  natural  to  her.  She  studied  very 
hard,  for  one  thing,  thinking  to  herself : 
"  I've  got  to  be  smart,  or  I'm  nothing." 
For  another  thing,  her  mind  wasn't  dis- 
turbed and  distracted  by  the  young  male 

28 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

students,  because  the  young  male  stu- 
dents left  Charlotte  severely  alone — that 
is,  all  except  one  poor  boy,  and  he  doesn't 
count,  as  you  will  very  soon  see. 

Perhaps,  too,  if  you  reverse  these 
reasons,  you  will  know  why  Margaret 
was  backward  in  her  studies.  Her  domi- 
nant thought  wasn't  "  How  much  can  I 
learn?  "  but  "  How  pretty  I  am!  "  And 
even  if  she  had  wished  to  study,  the 
young  men  of  Penfield  would  have  made 
it  difficult,  so  strong  was  the  competition 
to  walk  home  with  her,  to  take  her  out 
riding,  or  to  call  in  the  evening  and  sing 
ballads  of  such  a  sentimental  quaver  that 
they  quite  harrowed  the  feelings  of  Char- 
lotte who  was  studying  upstairs — Char- 
lotte was  already  among  the  leaders  of 
her  class,  who  had  made  up  her  mind  to 
stand  at  the  head  or  know  the  reason  why. 

"  Great  silly  things !  "  she  thought  one 
night.  "  You'd  think  they'd  have  more 
sense.  As  if  a  girl  doesn't  amount  to 
anything  unless  she's  beautiful!" 

29 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

A  sense  of  injustice  began  to  rankle 
in  her,  that  sense  of  injustice  which  was 
ultimately  to  lead  her  to  her  Three  Great 
Sums. 

"  I  guess  the  books  are  most  to 
blame,"  she  thought.  "  They  always 
make  their  heroines  beautiful."  Frown- 
ing a  little  she  ran  over  a  list  of  the  char- 
acters that  she  could  remember.  "  Dora 
Spenlow  was  awfully  pretty,"  she 
thought,  her  nose  curling  a  little.  "  And 
so  was  Agnes,  and  She,  and  Juliet,  and 
Little  Dorrit  and  Little  Nell  and  Lucy 
Ashton  and  Ethel  Newcome — yes,  and 
all  the  others,  too." 

For  a  moment  she  felt  a  challenge  in 
the  situation,  and  her  heart  warmed 
within  her,  as  hearts  have  warmed  since 
time  immemorial  at  the  prospect  of  lead- 
ing a  forlorn  hope  against  a  whole  world 
in  arms. 

"  I  don't  see  why  heroines  have  to  be 
so  terribly  pretty,"  she  thought.  "  I 
don't  believe  it's  anything  but  a  silly 
so 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

custom.  Probably  the  minstrels  started 
it.  It's  the  same  as  if  every  gentleman 
still  had  to  go  around  in  armor,  and 
every  old  woman  was  a  witch.  Why,  the 
way  the  books  have  it,  Margaret's  the 
only  girl  in  Penfield  who  could  ever  be  a 
heroine,  and  I  don't  believe  there's  a  girl 
in  town — no,  not  one! — who  wouldn't 
make  a  better  heroine  than  she !  " 

Which  was  as  far  as  she  got  just  then ; 
but  after  that,  whenever  Charlotte  read 
a  short  story  or  a  book  and  came  to  the 
author's  description  of  his  heroine,  and 
read  something  like  this :  "  I  would  like 
to  describe  the  beauty  of  Lois  Mallory, 
but  words  fail  me,"  or  "  Her  features 
were  crisply  and  delicately  chiseled,  as 
though  by  a  master  sculptor,"  or  "  She 
had  only  to  enter  a  room  to  eclipse 
everybody  there  " — whenever  Charlotte 
came  to  a  passage  like  that,  her  beaky 
little  nose  curled  in  a  most  refreshing 
manner  and  she  cried  to  herself,  "  Oh, 
fudge ! "  As  you  will  understand,  "  Oh, 

31 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

fudge!  "  was  one  of  the  things  which  she 
had  learned  at  high  school ;  and,  as  time 
went  on,  other  signs  of  a  growing  sense 
of  humor  began  to  manifest  themselves 
in  our  heroine.  But  on  the  whole,  Char- 
lotte remained  much  the  same  old- 
fashioned  girl  who  had  been  born  at 
Marlin  Mills  and  raised,  as  a  body  might 
say,  under  the  shadow  of  Micah's  apple 
tree.  She  read  a  great  deal,  dreamed  a 
great  deal,  and  studied  so  hard  that  if 
you  could  have  seen  her  bending  over 
her  books  she  would  have  reminded  you 
of  nothing  so  much  as  a  young  Minerva 
preparing  to  take  her  rightful  place  with 
the  other  elect  upon  Olympus. 

"  If  people  could  only  go  on  learning 
as  long  as  they  lived,"  she  thought  one 
day  as  she  closed  her  algebra,  "  wouldn't 
they  be  able  to  do  some  wonderful 
sums ! " 

That  started  her  thinking — she  wasn't 
old-fashioned  for  nothing — and  pres- 
ently she  continued :  "  Nearly  every- 

32 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

thing  you  do  is  a  sort  of  sum.  If  you 
do  it  right  you  get  the  proper  answer, 
and  if  you  do  it  wrong  you  fail.  Yes, 
when  you  look  at  it  that  way,  I  guess  a 
person's  whole  life  is  a  sort  of  sum,  but 
you  have  to  die  to  know  the  answer. 
Oh,  if  I  could  only  think  of  a  sum  that 
would  make  me  famous  all  over  the 
world!" 

After  that,  whenever  Charlotte  made 
up  her  mind  to  do  anything  difficult,  she 
would  say,  "I'm  going  to  set  myself  a 
sum,"  and  if  it  was  hard  to  do,  such  as 
taking  no  notice  of  Margaret's  mean- 
ness, or  memorizing  Himmel  und  Erde 
in  her  German  reader,  she  would  say  to 
herself:  "  I  can  do  it — I  can  do  it  if  I'm 
smart !  "  And  she  always  did  it,  because 
as  she  always  solemnly  told  herself: 
"I've  got  to  be  smart,  or  I'm  nothing." 

So  it  isn't  surprising  that,  at  the  end 
of  her  freshman  year,  she  stood  at  the 
head  of  her  class,  while  Margaret  hov- 
ered perilously  near  the  foot.  This  situa- 

3  S3 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

tion  wasn't  at  all  pleasing  to  the  pretty 
cousin. 

"  Mother,"  she  said  one  afternoon, 
"  what  do  you  suppose  is  the  matter  with 
Charlotte?" 

Aunt  Grace  looked  at  her  niece  as 
though  she  were  ready  for  anything,  and 
then  she  turned  to  her  daughter  in 
puzzled  surprise.  "  Nothing  that  I  can 
see,"  she  said.  "Why?" 

"  That's  what  I'd  like  to  know,"  said 
Margaret,  tossing  her  pretty  head.  "  I 
don't  know  whether  it's  her  nose,  or 
whether  she's  studying  too  hard,  but  no- 
body else  in  the  whole  school  looks  like 
her.  The  other  girls  are  beginning  to 
notice  it,  too,  and  my  friends  are  speak- 
ing to  me  about  it.  Perhaps  that's  why 
nobody  ever  walks  home  with  her;  I 
don't  know." 

An  angry  answer  prickled  on  Char- 
lotte's tongue,  but  she  bit  it  back,  this 
being  one  of  the  difficult  sums  which  she 
had  set  herself  to  do.  "  No,  sir! "  she 

34 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

thought,  cocking  her  beaky  little  nose. 
"  She  can  be  mean  if  she  wants  to,  but 
she  isn't  going  to  make  me  mean!  " 

Which  was  partly  due  to  that  epic 
line  of  Ma'm  Bazin's  which  often  came 
to  her  memory  when  she  thought  of  the 
spots  on  Micah's  apples :  "  The  sin  which 
is  buried  at  the  foot  of  the  tree,  it  shall 
make  itself  known  in  the  fruit."  So,  in- 
stead of  losing  her  temper,  Charlotte 
simply  gave  her  cousin  a  particularly 
old-fashioned  look — and  went  for  a  walk 
to  cool  off. 

That  was  the  afternoon  when  she  ran 
into  the  Boy  Who  Doesn't  Count. 

Charlotte  had  often  noticed  him.  He 
was  in  his  senior  year  at  high  school,  and 
though  he  was  the  smartest  boy  in  his 
class  he  wasn't  at  all  homely,  having  one 
of  those  keen,  wistful  faces  which  go  so 
well  with  curly  hair.  His  name  was 
Neil  Kennedy,  and  perhaps  because  he 
had  no  mother,  and  perhaps  because  his 
father  was  seldom  sober  for  two  weeks 

35 


together,  Neil  was  a  bashful  boy  who 
easily  blushed,  especially  if  you  met  him 
on  his  paper  route,  or  if  he  thought  you 
were  looking  at  the  patches  on  his 
clothes.  Charlotte  met  him  that  after- 
noon near  the  red  bridge  with  a  bundle 
of  papers  and  magazines  under  his  arm 
— met  him  so  unexpectedly  as  he  was 
turning  out  of  a  gate  that  she  ran  right 
into  him  and  not  only  sent  his  papers 
and  magazines  flying,  but  nearly  sent 
him  flying  after  them.  Of  course,  she 
helped  him  gather  his  papers  together, 
and,  of  course,  they  couldn't  help 
speaking. 

Next  day,  when  she  saw  him  at  school, 
she  smiled  at  him  and  he  not  only  smiled 
back,  but  (not  being  accustomed  to  have 
girls  notice  him  that  way)  he  blushed 
like  a  beet. 

"  Mother,"  said  Margaret  that  after- 
noon, throwing  her  books  down  as  soon 
as  she  reached  home,  "  you'll  have  to 

36 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

speak  to  Charlotte.  I  feel  so  ashamed 
I  don't  know  what  to  do." 

"  What's  the  matter  now?  "  asked  her 
patient  mother. 

"Matter?  Mmh!  You  know  that 
ragged  Neil  Kennedy,  the  boy  who  de- 
livers papers?  Well,  Charlotte's  gone 
and  fell  in  love  with  him! " 

Whereupon,  Micah's  apples  or  no 
Micah's  apples,  Charlotte  showed  such 
a  bright,  sparkling  glow  of  temper  that 
Margaret  shrank  back  and,  not  know- 
ing what  else  to  do,  she  burst  into  tears. 
At  this  Charlotte's  temper  went  cool 
again  and  she  stared  at  her  pretty 
cousin,  her  beaky  little  nose  so  curly  with 
disgust  that  it  would  have  done  you  good 
to  see  it.  "  Yes,"  she  gravely  nodded  to 
herself  that  night,  "  that's  our  beautiful 
heroine ! "  But  she  tried  her  best  not 
to  make  Neil  blush  again,  although  she 
spoke  to  him  whenever  she  saw  him. 

"It's  too  ridiculous!"  she  thought. 
"  There  I  used  to  think  that  a  rich  young 

37 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

man  would  come  riding  along  to  Marlin 
Mills  some  day,  and  we  were  going  to 
have  such  a  romantic  time  together. 
And  first  I  find  I'm  homely  1  And  then 
they  begin  to  tease  me  about  Neil 
Kennedy,  who  delivers  papers  and  whose 
father  drinks !  "  Whereat  she  shook  that 
wise  little  head  of  hers,  and  more  in 
wonder  than  sorrow  she  said:  "  Life's  a 
funny  sum ! " 

Thus  the  two  cousins  grew  up,  one 
growing  more  old-fashioned  and  the 
other  growing  prettier  every  day.  By 
the  time  they  reached  their  senior  year 
at  high  school,  Margaret  had  developed 
into  what  can  only  be  described  as  a 
howling  beauty,  and  Charlotte  found 
herself  dreaming  more  and  more  often 
of  the  day  when  she  would  do  that  sum 
which  she  had  already  decided  would 
startle  the  world. 

'  Yes,  and  I  can,  too! "  she  told  her- 
self one  afternoon.  "  I  feel  it  in  me!  " 

She  had  walked  out  into  the  country 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

to  the  top  of  Flat  Rock  and  was  watch- 
ing the  sunset,  and  as  that  miracle  of 
color  began  to  unfold  itself  in  the  west 
Charlotte  felt  in  her  tender  young  bosom 
such  a  yearning  for  life  and  success  that, 
quite  involuntarily,  she  threw  out  her 
arms  to  the  distant  horizon  and  tears 
brimmed  to  her  eyes.  "  I'll  show  them !  " 
she  whispered.  "I'll  show  them  if  it's 
everything  to  be  pretty,  and  nothing 
else  counts ! " 

For  that,  you  see,  had  almost  come  to 
be  an  obsession  with  her;  and  as  she 
stood  there,  watching  the  sunset,  she  saw 
herself,  in  fancy,  a  little  Miss  Moses, 
leading  herself  and  her  sisters  into  a 
Promised  Land  where  pretty  maids 
count  about  the  same  as  pretty  men, 
and  the  average  girl  can  be  a  heroine 
just  as  well  as  though  she  were  a  modern 
Hebe. 

The  sunset  over,  she  went  home, 
thoughtfully  intent  upon  the  Great  Sum 
which  she  was  going  to  set  for  herself, 

S9 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

and  as  graduation  day  drew  near  she 
spent  many  an  hour  with  herself,  dream- 
ing those  grand,  misty  dreams  which  are 
the  heritage  of  youth  and  ambition,  and 
trying  to  shape  them  into  tangible 
form.  Many  a  career  she  sketched  for 
herself,  only  to  erase  it  from  her  mind 
with  an  impatient  shake  of  her  head. 
"  I  ought  to  think  of  something  better 
than  that,"  she  would  say;  "  and  I  will, 
too,  if  I'm  smart!  " 

To  tell  the  truth,  much  as  she  tried 
to  hide  it  from  herself,  the  element  of 
romance  was  always  present  in  her 
dreams.  She  didn't  want  a  vocation  so 
much  as  she  wished  for  an  adventure — 
an  adventure  of  youth  and  love  and  suc- 
cess; a  drama,  if  you  like — something 
imaginative,  something  to  appeal  to  the 
spirit  as  well  as  to  the  mind. 

"  I'll  get  it  yet,"  she  kept  telling  her- 
self. "  I'll  get  it  yet  if  I'm  smart,  and 
I've  got  to  be  smart  or  I'm  nothing." 

Well,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  she  "  got 

40 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

it "  the  day  after  graduation,  and  it 
came  to  her  (as  such  things  generally 
do )  in  a  way  she  had  never  expected.  In 
their  evening  exercises  some  of  the  mem- 
bers of  the  graduating  class  gave  a  one- 
act  play,  and  it  won't  take  you  long  to 
guess  that  Margaret  was  the  heroine. 
It  is  doubtful  if  she  ever  looked  prettier 
in  her  life  than  she  looked  that  night; 
and,  because  she  was  the  acknowledged 
belle  of  Penfield  and  everyone  felt  proud 
of  her  (none  of  them  knowing  her  half 
so  well  as  her  cousin  Charlotte  did) ,  she 
was  enthusiastically  applauded.  The 
next  day  her  picture  appeared  in  the 
"  Penfield  Journal,"  a  two-column  wide 
cut  with  a  half-column  notice,  while 
Charlotte's  name  only  appeared  once, 
in  a  short  sentence  stating  that  she  had 
graduated  at  the  head  of  her  class. 

Poor  Charlotte!   A  weaker  character 
might  have  asked  the  despairing  ques- 
tion :  "  What's  the  use  of  being  smart?  " 
After  the  performance  the  night  before 
41 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

she  remembered  everyone  had  crowded 
around  her  pretty  cousin  to  congratu- 
late her,  while  she,  who  had  graduated 
at  the  head  of  her  class,  had  sat  neglected 
in  a  corner,  an  old-fashioned  little  figure, 
thinking  things  out.  And  when  the 
exercises  were  over,  Willis  Hayland  had 
taken  Margaret  home — "Willis  Hay- 
land,  the  richest  young  man  in  Penfield, 
while  Charlotte  had  walked  home  with 
Aunt  Grace,  her  beaky  little  nose  held 
proudly  to  the  stars,  pretending  not  to 
care. 

'  Willis  wanted  to  kiss  me,  too, 
mamma,"  reported  Margaret  next  day ; 
"  and  he  called  me  his  little  girl  and 
asked  me  if  he  could  come  over  to- 
night." She  had  told  her  mother  this 
before ;  she  wanted  Charlotte  to  hear  it, 
too. 

Charlotte  heard  it,  but  said  nothing. 

"  I  think  it's  dreadful,  the  way  they've 
put  my  picture  in  the  paper,"  continued 
Margaret,  looking  at  the  "  Journal " 

42 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

again  and  unconsciously  preening  her- 
self. "  I  was  never  so  surprised  in  my 
life.  And  this  awful  piece  about  how 
popular  and  pretty  I  am." 

But  still  Charlotte  said  nothing. 

"  I  wonder  why  they  didn't  print 
your  picture?"  asked  Margaret,  turn- 
ing to  her  cousin,  piqued  by  her  silence. 

"  How  could  they,"  retorted  Char- 
lotte, "  when  I  didn't  give  them  one? " 

"  Oh!  Did  anybody  ask  you  for 
one?" 

"No!    They  did  not." 

Margaret  turned  and  took  a  long, 
lazy  look  at  her  cousin.  "  Good  reason 
why,"  she  said. 

And  then  she  laughed ! 

As  everyone  knows,  there  are  laughs 
and  laughs ;  and  in  spite  of  all  she  could 
do,  Charlotte  found  herself  divided  be- 
tween anger  and  tears.  She  went  to  her 
room  as  soon  as  she  could,  feeling  as 
though  her  cheeks  had  been  stung  with 
nettles;  and  there  she  threw  herself 

43 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

across  her  bed  and  cried  in  the  pillow, 
as  motherless  girls  have  cried  since  time 
immemorial.  Perhaps  those  tears  were 
needed  to  clear  the  mists  from  her 
dreams.  After  awhile  she  calmly  arose 
and  bathed  her  face  in  cold  water. 

"Now!"  she  said,  with  that  air  of 
resolution  which  always  fell  upon  her 
when  she  set  herself  a  particularly  dif- 
ficult sum.  "  She's  popular  with  some 
of  the  people,  but  I'm  going  to  make 
everybody  like  me !  She  had  her  picture 
in  the  *  Penfield  Journal/  but  I'm  going 
to  have  my  picture  in  all  the  papers! 
She  thinks  she's  going  to  marry  Willis 
Hayland,  but  I'm  going  to  marry  one 
of  the  handsomest  and  richest  young  men 
in  the  whole  United  States! " 

For  a  moment  even  Charlotte's 
brightly  glowing  spirit  felt  awed  in  the 
contemplation  of  those  Three  Great 
Sums,  but  only  for  a  moment.  The 
next  second  she  was  looking  at  herself 
in  the  glass  with  a  feeling  of  exaltation 

44 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

that  was  close  to  grandeur,  looking  at 
her  deeply  tender  eyes,  her  expressive 
eyebrows  and  her  flushed  cheeks,  look- 
ing at  her  Marlin's  nose,  which  was  in- 
clined to  be  beaky,  and  her  Marlin's 
chin,  which  was  inclined  to  be  sensitive 
— shaped,  as  it  was,  with  that  mobility 
which  promises  unfathomed  tenderness. 
'  Yes !  Yes !  Yes !  "  she  almost  pas- 
sionately whispered  to  herself,  "  as 
homely  as  I  am! " 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  morning  after  Charlotte  set  her- 
self those  Three  Great  Sums  she  found 
that  a  feeling  of  reaction  had  followed 
the  excitement  of  the  night  before. 
"Oh,  I  never,  never  could!"  she  told 
herself  in  a  frightened  voice.  "  I  would 
only  be  a  silly  thing  to  try." 

The  more  she  thought  it  over  the 
more  she  felt  that  way.  And,  truth  to 
tell,  her  Three  Great  Sums  were  cer- 
tainly formidable  enough,  even  for  a 
girl  who  had  been  graduated  at  the  head 
of  her  class.  "  I  might  be  able  to  get 
some  folks  to  like  me,"  she  thought, 
"  though  I've  never  been  able  to  make 
friends  yet.  And  I  might  be  able  to  get 
my  picture  in  some  of  the  papers,  if  I 
did  something  awful  enough!  But  to 
make  everybody  like  me — and  have  my 
picture  in  all  the  papers — and  then  on 

46 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

top  of  that  to  marry  one  of  the  hand- 
somest and  richest  young  men  in  the 
whole  United  States!  "  With  something 
of  a  gasp  she  slipped  out  of  bed  and 
looked  at  her  reflection  in  the  mirror. 
"  If  I  wasn't  such  a  plain  little  thing!  " 
she  almost  cried.  "  But — oh,  dear! — 
perhaps  the  books  are  right  after  all,  and 
a  heroine's  got  to  be  beautiful." 

Still,  as  you  have  seen,  it  wasn't  for 
nothing  that  Charlotte  had  the  old  Mar- 
lin  spirit  and  had  been  raised,  as  a  body 
might  say,  right  under  the  shadow  of 
Micah's  apple  tree;  and  after  she  had 
appraised  the  hardness  of  her  problem  it 
gradually  began  to  lose  some  of  its 
terrors. 

"  Of  course,  anybody  can  do  the  easy 
sums,"  she  thoughtfully  reflected,  "  and, 
of  course,  somebody's  got  to  marry  him 
— I  don't  care  who  he  is !  " 

So,  as  she  dressed  herself,  she  began 
to  study  her  problem  in  a  most  delight- 
ful manner,  at  one  moment  reasoning 

47 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

with  the  power  of  a  logician  whose 
geometry  papers  had  always  been 
marked  with  an  "  A,"  and  at  the  next 
reasoning  with  the  sublime  innocence  of 
a  country  girl  who  had  never  been  more 
than  nine  miles  away  from  the  farm 
where  she  was  born. 

"  After  all,"  she  thought,  "  women 
have  solved  harder  problems  than  mine. 
Think  of  Mrs.  Browning,  who  made 
herself  as  famous  as  her  husband;  and 
think  of  Madame  Curie,  who  discovered 
radium — and  Helen  Keller,  who  was 
deaf,  dumb  and  blind!  And  think  of 
the  first  woman  lawyer  and  the  first 
woman  doctor — what  sums  they  set 
themselves!  So,  after  all,"  she  repeated, 
"  I  don't  see  why  I  need  be  frightened 
— even  at — even  at — even  at  marrying 
a  millionaire! " 

She  blushed  at  that,  and  began 
brushing  her  hair  so  hard  that  it 
crackled. 

"  It'll  be 'like  algebra,  or  French,  or 

48 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

German,"  she  thought.  "If  you  look 
at  the  end  of  the  textbook  first,  you  think 
to  yourself,  '  I  could  never  learn  this  ' ! 
But  if  you  do  a  little  every  day,  start- 
ing at  the  front  of  the  book  and  working 
up  step  by  step,  why,  it  all  comes  just  as 
easy ! " 

At  that  she  felt  so  confident  that  she 
coiled  her  hair  into  a  queenly  little  bob, 
and  began  to  search  her  bureau  drawer. 
There  she  found  a  tiny  memorandum 
book  bound  in  purple  morocco,  a  Christ- 
mas present  which  someone  had  given 
her  years  before.  Next  she  found  a  pen- 
cil, and  then  she  wrote  her  first  Great 
Sum  on  the  first  page  of  the  purple 
book: 

"  One — How  can  I  make  everybody 
like  me?  " 

Turning  the  page  over  she  sat  for  a 
long  time,  nibbling  the  end  of  her 
pencil. 

"Of  course,"  she  thought,  "  to  get 
my  picture  in  all  the  papers  I  shall  have 

4  49 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

to  do  something  to  make  myself  famous. 
So  that's  really  the  next  sum,"  and  she 
wrote: 

"  Two — How  can  I  make  myself 
famous?  " 

The  next  proposition  needed  no  re- 
flection at  all,  and  down  it  went  straight- 
way: 

"  Three — How  can  I  marry  a  mil- 
lionaire? " 

"  I'll  start  on  the  first,"  she  said,  "  be- 
cause that's  the  easiest."  And,  hurriedly 
turning  back  to  the  first  page,  she  re- 
peated to  herself  over  and  over  again: 
"  How  can  I  make  everybody  like  me? 
How  can  I  make  everybody  like  me?  " 

A  wide,  deep  question,  this,  when  you 
think  it  over;  and  one,  no  doubt,  that 
has  puzzled  many  thousand  minds,  from 
queens'  to  quacks',  since  popularity  had 
prizes  to  bestow.  Wherefore  it  isn't  sur- 
prising that  Charlotte  found  it  a  hard 
nut  for  her  little  teeth;  and  it  seemed  to 

50 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

grow  harder  the  more  she  tried  to 
crack  it. 

All  that  day  and  the  next  and  the 
next  she  thought  it  over,  but  still  she 
failed  to  get  an  answer. 

"  Perhaps  if  I  were  to  start  a  dancing 
class,"  she  thought  once,  for  instance, 
"  everybody  would  like  me." 

But,  in  the  first  place,  Charlotte 
couldn't  dance ;  and,  in  the  second  place, 
there  was  nowhere  in  Penfield  where  a 
dancing  class  could  be  held  except  in 
Thayer  Hall ;  and  Deacon  Thayer  didn't 
believe  in  dancing,  because  of  what  the 
daughter  of  Herodias  once  did,  and  he 
wasn't  going  to  have  any  such  doings 
going  on  in  Thayer  Hall.  So,  you  see, 
that  wouldn't  do. 

"  Perhaps  if  I  gave  comic  recitations, 
like  Bertha  Ennis  does,  and  made  them 
all  laugh,"  thought  Charlotte  another 
time,  "  everybody  would  like  me." 

But  in  the  first  place,  Charlotte's 
wasn't  the  comic  spirit  (her  childhood  at 

51 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

Marlin  Mills  had  something  to  do  with 
this) ;  and,  in  the  second  place,  when- 
ever she  had  to  speak  in  public  her  feet 
seemed  to  grow  so  big  and  her  hands  so 
red,  and  her  voice  seemed  to  proceed 
from  such  a  far  country,  that  the  whole 
proceeding  was  more  like  a  nightmare 
to  Charlotte  than  anything  else. 

So,  as  you  plainly  see  again,  that 
wouldn't  do. 

"If  I  could  only  do  something  to 
make  myself  famous,"  she  thought, 
"  everybody  might  like  me." 

But  this,  as  she  realized  at  once,  was 
Sum  Number  Two,  and  after  a  few 
minutes'  reflection  it  looked  like  a  harder 
nut  to  crack  than  Number  One. 

"  It's  a  good  thing  the  easiest  one 
comes  first,"  she  droopingly  told  herself, 
discouraged  for  a  moment.  It  was  only 
for  a  moment,  though,  and  then  her 
beaky  little  nose  went  up  as  resolutely  as 
ever.  "  Never  mind!  "  she  cried.  "  I'll 
get  them  yet." 

52 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

On  the  very  next  day  an  event  took 
place  which  drove  all  thoughts  of  the 
Three  Great  Sums  completely  out  of  her 
mind.  Judge  Darbie  called  to  see  Aunt 
Grace,  and  then  Charlotte  was  sent  for. 
They  broke  the  news  to  her  as  gently  as 
they  could,  but  when  it  was  over  Char- 
lotte knew  that  the  Marlin  Creamery 
Company  had  gone  into  bankruptcy 
with  such  a  crash  that  her  bonds  were 
practically  worthless,  that  her  income  of 
ten  dollars  a  week  had  utterly  ceased  to 
exist,  and  that  all  she  had  left  in  the 
world  was  the  old  Marlin  farm  and  one 
hundred  and  eight  dollars  in  the  bank. 

"  So  I'm  not  only  homely,"  she  whis- 
pered to  her  sober  little  self  that  night, 
"  I'm  poor  as  well!  "  And  listening  to 
Margaret,  who  was  playing  the  piano 
to  Willis  Hayland,  downstairs,  she 
couldn't  help  half  sobbing  to  herself: 
"Oh,  dear!  I'd  rather  be  smart  than 
pretty,  but  doesn't  it  make  an  awful  lot 
of  work?" 

53 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

For  a  long  time  after  the  piano  down- 
stairs had  stopped,  Charlotte  lay  awake, 
her  Three  Great  Sums  temporarily 
eclipsed  by  that  greater  problem  which 
comes  to  nearly  all  of  us  at  some  time  or 
other :  that  absorbing  conundrum  which 
relates  to  the  making  of  a  living,  and  is 
sometimes  referred  to  as  the  Problem  of 
Existence. 

"  Oh,  well,"  she  thought,  punching 
the  pillow  just  before  she  settled  down 
to  sleep,  "  I'm  young  and  healthy,  and 
that's  a  lot  to  be  thankful  for.  Think  of 
those  poor  emigrant  girls  who  come  over 
here,  strangers  in  a  strange  land,  and 
can't  even  speak  English.  If  they  can 
get  on  I'm  sure  I  can.  So  I'm  not  going 
to  worry  any  more  about  it.  There's 
some  way  I  can  make  a  living  in  a  great, 
big  country  like  this,  and  if  I'm  smart 
it  won't  take  me  long  to  find  out  how." 

She  "  found  out  how  "  the  very  next 
day,  and  the  thought  came  to  her  (as 
such  things  often  do )  like  a  flash.  "  The 

54 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

teacher  never  stayed  at  the  Mills  for 
more  than  a  year,"  she  thought.  "  I'll 
go  right  over  to  Mr.  Chapman's  and  see 
if  there's  a  vacancy  now." 

But  before  going  to  see  the  school 
superintendent  she  put  on  her  longest 
dress,  and  did  her  hair  up  old,  and  looked 
so  prim  and  old-fashioned  that  all  she 
needed  was  a  bonnet  and  you  would 
have  thought  that  she  had  stepped  right 
out  of  one  of  those  old  daguerrotypes, 
the  kind  with  the  oval  pictures  and  the 
mats  with  the  old-rose  plush. 

Mr.  Chapman  beamed  when  he  saw  his 
brightest  graduate,  and  would  have 
joked  with  her,  but  Charlotte  was  afraid 
to  beam  or  joke  back  for  fear  he  might 
think  her  too  young  or  too  giddy.  So 
she  sat  sedately  on  the  edge  of  her  chair 
and  sedately  stated  her  errand.  And 
how  her  heart  jumped  when  she  learned 
that  there  was  indeed  a  vacancy  at  Mar- 
lin  Mills,  and  how  it  jumped  again  when 
Mr.  Chapman  promised  her  the  position! 

55 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

The  very  next  day  but  one  she  re- 
ceived an  official  letter  from  the  School 
Committee,  formally  appointing  her  to 
the  vacant  position.  The  salary  was 
twenty-five  dollars  a  month;  but  she 
couldn't  have  been  any  happier  if  it  had 
been  two  hundred  and  fifty. 

"  I'm  independent — independent !  " 
she  sang  to  herself,  with  much  the  same 
spirit,  no  doubt,  that  her  forebears  sang 
after  a  certain  momentous  affair  which 
began  in  1776 ;  and  she  ran  to  the  kitchen 
with  the  look  of  one  who  had  the  world 
at  her  feet. 

"So  you're  really  going? "  asked 
Aunt  Grace  in  a  tired,  flat  voice.  Aunt 
Grace  had  been  ironing  Margaret's 
dresses  for  the  last  two  hours  and  looked 
as  tired  as  she  sounded. 

*  Yes,  aunty,  and  I'm  awfully  sorry 
everytime  I  think  of  leaving  you.  Mr. 
Briggs  is  going  to  drive  me  over  in  the 
morning,  so  I  must  pack  now." 

Aunt  Grace  put  the  cool  iron  back  on 
$6 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

the  stove  and  tried  a  new  one  with  a 
quick  dab  of  her  moistened  finger.  The 
motion  was  quicker  than  the  eye  could 
follow,  but  her  thoughts  seemed  to  be  on 
something  else,  because  while  she  was 
trying  the  iron  she  was  drawing  a  long, 
slow  sigh.  "  I  shall  miss  you  an  awful 
lot,  Charlotte,"  she  said. 

They  looked  at  each  other — aunt  and 
niece;  Experience  and  Youth — and 
though  neither  spoke,  each  knew  that 
the  other  was  thinking  of  Margaret.  As 
though  by  mutual  consent  they  stood 
listening  for  a  moment  to  the  song 
Margaret  was  practising  in  the  front 
room: 

"  You're  wonderful — "  (Chord) 
"  You're  marvelous — '*  (  Chord) 
"  You're  the  sweetest  girl  in  the  world.** 

Aunt  Grace  spoke  first.  Not  even 
by  silence  would  she  consciously  place 
her  pretty  daughter  in  the  wrong.  "  If 
you  ever  find  it  lonesome  over  there," 
she  said,  "  you  come  right  back  here. 

57 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

I'll  run  up  and  help  you  pack  as  soon  as 
I  get  this  other  dress  done." 

Charlotte  had  to  pass  through  the  hall 
to  go  upstairs. 

Margaret  heard  her  and  swung 
around  on  the  piano  stool.  She  was 
wearing  a  pink-and-white-striped  skirt 
and  a  washable-silk  blouse  and,  espe- 
cially in  comparison  with  her  mother  in 
the  kitchen,  she  looked  refreshingly 
sweet  and  cool.  "  Where  are  you 
going? "  she  asked. 

"  Upstairs,"  said  Charlotte. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do?  " 

"  Pack." 

'  Then  you're  really  going  to  that 
hole? " 

'  Yes,  I'm  really  going — to  that  hole 
— and  earn  my  own  living  in  that  hole, 
if  you  want  to  know." 

Margaret  laughed.  "  I  was  telling 
Willis  about  it  last  night,"  she  said. 
"  He  says  the  only  people  at  Marlin 

58 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

Mills  are  three  old  maids  and  a  half- 
witted boy." 

"  When  I  get  there  there'll  he  four 
old  maids,"  said  Charlotte  shortly. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  laughed  Marg- 
aret. "  There's  the  half-witted  boy,  re- 
member." 

Charlotte  bit  the  end  of  her  tongue 
and  went  upstairs;  but  the  next  morn- 
ing as  she  rode  back  to  her  birthplace  in 
Mr.  Briggs'  wagon  she  found  herself 
thinking  of  what  her  pretty  cousin  had 
told  her. 

When  they  first  left  Penfield  the 
houses  they  passed  had  a  prosperous  ap- 
pearance, and  the  people  she  saw  waved 
their  hands  at  her.  But  gradually,  as 
they  jolted  farther  and  farther  into  the 
country,  the  farms  began  to  look  more 
and  more  dilapidated,  and  sharp-faced 
curiosity  was  seen  more  often  than 
smiles. 

"  Great  country  for  rocks  hereabout," 
said  Mr.  Briggs,  stroking  his  enormous 

59 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

mustache.  "  Farmers  used  to  sharpen 
their  sheep's  noses  so  they  could  get  a 
bite  between  the  stones."  After  this 
ancient  jest  Mr.  Briggs  mutely  retired 
(if  one  may  speak  that  way)  behind  his 
enormous  mustache,  as  though  the 
prospect  depressed  him  and  he  wished  to 
philosophize  upon  life. 

'  There's  one  comfort,"  thought 
Charlotte,  looking  around:  "  It  can't 
get  any  worse  than  this." 

But  a  mile  or  two  farther,  after  pass- 
ing three  abandoned  farms,  one  after 
another,  they  came  to  the  most  desolate 
of  all  desolate  sights,  an  abandoned 
church,  with  its  steeple  awry  and  its  roof 
fallen  in. 

"Oh !"gasped  Charlotte. 

"Pretty  bad!"  agreed  Mr.  Briggs. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  these  farms 
that  the  people  don't  stay  here? " 

"  Too  fur  from  the  railway  to  take 
their  milk.  Sixteen  miles  there  and  back 

60 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

every  day.  Too  much  for  any  farm 
team." 

"  Then  why  does  anybody  live  here?  " 

"Search  me!"  said  the  candid  Mr. 
Briggs.  "  No  place  else  to  go,  I  guess." 

Whereupon  he  retired  again  behind 
his  enormous  mustache,  and  poor  Char- 
lotte's heart  felt  so  heavy  and  moved  so 
strangely  that  it  might  have  been  a  little 
pair  of  millstones  in  her  bosom,  grind- 
ing a  grist  of  doleful  premonitions. 
Knowing  herself  to  be  not  far  from  tears 
she  opened  her  bag  for  her  handkerchief, 
and  the  first  thing  that  touched  her  hand 
was  that  purple  memorandum  book  in 
which  she  had  entered  her  Three  Great 
Sums. 

"  To  make  everybody  like  me! "  she 
thought,  looking  around.  "  To  make 
myself  famous!  And  to  marry  a  mil- 
lionaire! Snf-ha!" 

"  Did  you  speak?  "  asked  Mr.  Briggs. 

N-no,"  said  Charlotte  in  an  uncer- 
tain voice.  "  I  was  laughing ;  that's  all." 

61 


CHAPTER  IV 

WHEN  dinner  was  over  Charlotte 
helped  Aunt  Hepzibah  with  the  dishes, 
and  then  they  began  to  exchange  con- 
fidences. They  talked  about  Aunt 
Grace,  and  Margaret,  and  Margaret's 
rich  beau,  and  how  Aunt  Grace  did  up 
her  quinces,  and  how  much  they  paid  the 
minister  at  Penfield;  and  then,  the  scene 
shifting  to  Marlin  Mills,  they  talked 
about  those  faithful  members  of  the  Old 
Guard  who  had  not  yet  moved  or  (with 
greater  dignity)  been  moved  away. 

There  were  only  six  families  left,  and 
only  seven  pupils  to  attend  the  school- 
house  under  the  old  Marlin  elms,  that 
same  schoolhouse  where  Nathan  Hale 
once  taught  before  he  went  away  to  voice 
his  deathless  regret. 

"  And,  out  o'  them  seven,  one's  a  bit 

62 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

simple,"  said  Aunt  Hepzibah.  "  Billy 
Bates.  You  remember  him?  " 

"  Yes,"  nodded  Charlotte,  frowning 
at  what  Margaret  had  said. 

"  The  old  folks  haven't  changed  much 
— those  that  are  left,"  continued  her 
aunt.  "  A  little  crabbeder,  you'll  find 
'em,  and  a  little  poorer.  But  that's  Mar- 
lin  Mills  all  over." 

"  I'm  going  for  a  walk  this  after- 
noon," said  Charlotte,  "  and  I'll  make  a 
few  calls.  If  they  were  all  like  you, 
Aunt  Hepzy,  what  a  lovely  time  I'd 
have ! "  And  she  gave  her  aunt  such  a 
young-bear's  hug  that  both  of  them  felt 
their  hearts  grow  warm,  and  they  stood 
there  for  a  moment,  embracing,  as  those 
who  love  have  embraced  each  other  since 
time  immemorial. 

"  Yes,"  thought  Charlotte  as  she 
dressed  to  go  out.  "  And  if  I  had  come 
home  cross  and  cranky  I'd  soon  be  mak- 
ing Aunt  Hepzibah  cross  and  cranky, 
too.  Which  goes  to  show- "  "  She 

• 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

paused,  one  shoe  off  and  one  shoe  on, 
such  an  inspiration  striking  her  that  it 
brought  a  flush  to  her  cheeks  and  a  new 
brightness  to  her  eye.  'There!"  she 
breathed  to  herself.  "  I  do  believe  I've 
got  it!" 

She  thought  it  over  carefully,  as 
though  it  were  a  problem  in  arithmetic 
or  the  syntax  of  a  verb.  '  Yes,"  she 
whispered  in  exultation,  "  I  do  believe 
I've  got  the  answer  to  my  first  Great 
Sum."  She  put  on  her  other  shoe,  then, 
and  went  to  her  chair  by  the  window — 
that  same  window  where  she  used  to  sit 
and  look  at  Micah's  apple  tree  and  the 
village  below,  and  dream  of  Little  Nell 
and  Tiny  Tim,  and  the  beaus  and  belles 
who  used  to  walk  beneath  the  Marlin 
elms. 

"  Now!  "  she  whispered.    "  Who  are 

the  only  ones  in  Penfield  that  I  really 

like  ?  "    She  counted  them  on  her  fingers. 

'  There's   Aunt   Grace.     And   Judge 

Darbie.  And  Mr.  Chapman.  And  Miss 

64 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

Bartlett.  And — and  Neil  Kennedy. 
And  why  do  I  like  them?  "  she  triumph- 
antly asked  herself.  "  I  like  them  because 
they  like  me.  There!  And  that's  the 
reason  I  like  Aunt  Hepzibah.  She  likes 
me  I  And  that's  the  reason  I  don't  like 
Margaret.  She  doesn't  like  me!  And 
that's  the  reason  all  the  young  men  like 
Margaret.  She  likes  them !  And  that's 
the  reason  nobody  likes  a  selfish  person, 
because  a  selfish  person  likes  nobody  but 
himself.  There!  So  if  I  want  people 
to  like  me  I've  got  to  like  them.  And  if 
I  want  everybody  to  like  me  I've  got  to 
like  everybody,  and  that's  all  there  is  to 
it!  There!" 

She  jumped  from  her  chair,  filled  with 
that  warmth  of  victory  which  she  had 
always  felt  at  school  after  a  particularly 
difficult  lesson  had  been  learned;  and, 
putting  on  her  hat,  she  almost  danced 
down  the  stairs,  and  started  out  to  put 
her  theory  to  the  test. 

Down  the  stairs  and  down  the  hill 

5  65 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

went  Charlotte,  as  old-fashioned  and 
bonny  a  figure  as  you  would  have  found 
in  these  United  States  that  day.  Down 
over  the  bridge  she  tripped,  past  the 
grist  mill  with  its  columbines  and  ragged 
robins  growing  among  the  ruins  of  the 
dam,  past  the  old  blacksmith  shop  with 
the  leather  fallen  from  its  bellows  and 
its  forge  fire  cold  for  nearly  half  a  cen- 
tury, past  a  row  of  deserted  tenements 
with  gaunt  holes  in  their  roofs  and  half 
their  clapboards  gone,  but  each  with  its 
horseshoe  hanging  over  the  door  to  keep 
bad  luck  away. 

The  next  cottage  had  curtains  at  the 
windows  and  zinnias  growing  in  the 
front  yard,  and  when  Charlotte  turned 
in  at  the  gate  she  immediately  became 
conscious  of  the  shrewd-faced  old 
woman  who  was  watching  her  through 
the  window. 

"  Hello,  Mrs.  Johnson!  "  she  laughed, 
waving  her  hand.  "  I'm  back  again." 

The  old  woman  disappeared,  and  a 

66 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

moment  later  the  front  door  opened. 
"  Well,  I  swanny!  "  she  exclaimed.  "  If 
'taint  Charlotte  Marlin,  growed  out  of 
all  knowledge ! " 

If  Charlotte  had  made  that  call  the 
day  before  she  would  have  contented 
herself  with  a  quiet  smile  and  a  polite 
"How  are  you?"  And  quietness 
would  have  been  met  with  quietness,  and 
politeness  with  a  dignified  gentility.  But 
this  was  a  new  Charlotte  who  was  calling 
on  Mrs.  Johnson,  a  girl  who  wanted 
everybody  to  like  her  and  who  was  will- 
ing to  pay  the  reasonable  price  of  liking 
everybody  in  exchange.  So,  instead  of 
a  quiet  smile  and  a  polite  "  How  are 
you?  "  she  danced  up  to  Dame  Johnson 
with  a  sparkle  in  her  eye  and  planted 
such  a  kiss  upon  that  withered  old  cheek 
that,  as  if  by  magic,  a  gentle  color  im- 
mediately blossomed  there;  for,  oh,  it 
had  been  many  a  year  since  a  pair  of 
young  arms  had  folded  themselves 
around  Dame  Johnson's  shoulders,  or  a 

67 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

pair  of  young  lips  had  pressed  them- 
selves against  her  cheek! 

They  chatted  together  for  nearly  half 
an  hour,  and  the  more  they  talked  the 
more  Charlotte  found  to  like  in  her 
lonely  old  hostess.  If  you  could  only 
have  heard  the  different  things  they 
talked  about!  But,  in  the  first  place,  it 
would  take  too  long ;  and,  in  the  second 
place,  it  wasn't  so  much  the  things  they 
said  that  counted  as  the  way  they  said 
them. 

It  was  the  way  they  smiled  at  each 
other,  the  rich  little  duets  of  laughter 
they  indulged  in,  the  breathless  nods  of 
the  head,  the  sympathetic  faces  they 
pulled,  the  delighted  little  snorts,  and 
all  those  graces  and  adornments  of 
speech  which  can  only  flourish  in  the 
warmth  of  understanding,  and  wilt  away 
completely  in  the  first  cold  blast  that 
blows — little  graces  and  adornments 
which  quite  defy  description. 

But  one  thing  I  can  tell  you:  When 

68 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

Charlotte  had  eaten  her  cake  and  picked 
up  her  bunch  of  zinnias  and  kissed  the 
old  dame  on  her  other  withered  cheek, 
those  two  parted  firm  friends  and  Char- 
lotte knew  she  was  well  on  the  way  to- 
ward solving  her  first  Great  Sum. 

If  you  could  only  have  heard  Char- 
lotte, too,  on  the  other  calls  she  made 
that  afternoon,  especially  the  one  she 
made  on  the  coquettish  Miss  Hawley, 
who  was  deaf  and  had  an  ear  trumpet — 
but  when  all's  said  and  done  they  were 
patterned  largely  after  the  first.  Char- 
lotte had  simply  made  up  her  mind  that 
she  was  going  to  like  every  body  she 
called  upon.  As  a  result  she  made 
friends  wherever  she  went,  and  at  six 
o'clock  she  returned  home  radiant,  her 
beaky  little  nose  held  high  in  triumph, 
as  though  it  were  holding  a  jubilee. 

"Well?"  said  Aunt  Hepzibah,  who 
was  busy  at  the  stove.    "See  anybody?  " 

"Everybody!"  laughed  Charlotte. 

69 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

"Doesn't  take  long.  Found  'em  a 
pretty  mis'able  lot,  didn't  you?  " 

"  No;  I  didn't! "  cried  Charlotte  with 
enthusiasm.  "  I  think  they're  the  most 
interesting  folks  I  ever  met,  and  I  love 
them — every  one! " 

Aunt  Hepzibah  turned,  her  features 
stricken  into  an  expression  of  utter  as- 
tonishment. "Well,"  she  said  at  last, 
her  countenance  growing  more  reflec- 
tive, "  I  dunno  but  you're  right.  My 
father  used  to  say  you  could  set  your- 
self either  for  a  thing  or  against  it — one 
about  as  easy  as  the  other;  and  he  was  a 
wise  old  man,  though  I  say  it  myself. 
Still — you  wait  till  you've  lived  among 
'em  as  long  as  I  have.  You  may  have 
diff erent  notions  then." 

But,  whether  or  not  the  element  of 
novelty  entered  into  it,  the  fact  remains 
that  Charlotte  soon  became  a  great 
favorite  in  the  limited  society  of  Marlin 
Mills.  She  helped  Dame  Johnson  turn 
her  black  silk  skirt.  She  read  the  "  Nor- 

70 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

/ 

wich  Bulletin  "  to  Mrs.  Winthrop,  who 
couldn't  read,  but  would  never  confess 
it,  though  everybody  knew  it.  She  took 
fashion  magazines  to  the  coquettish  Miss 
Hawley,  who  had  been  an  acknowledged 
beauty  in  her  day  and  had  broken  many 
a  heart  which  had  long  since  turned  to 
dust.  Yes,  and  before  the  month  of 
August  was  over  she  was  calling  all  the 
old  men  in  the  village  "  Uncle,"  and 
whenever  any  of  the  seven  children  hap- 
pened to  see  her,  you  might  have  thought 
it  was  another  Pied  Piper  of  Hamelin 
just  after  the  burgomaster's  refusal  to 
pay  those  thousand  guilders. 

"  There! "  thought  Charlotte  to  her- 
self one  night,  after  making  an  entry  in 
her  little  purple  book.  "  I  know  how  to 
make  people  like  me,  and  now  I'm  ready 
for  the  Second  Sum."  An  expression 
that  was  almost  fear  stole  over  her,  and 
in  slow,  subdued  tones  she  continued: 
"  How  can  I  make  myself  famous? " 

She  tried  to  figure  out  ways  and  means 

71 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

till  her  head  began  to  ache.  She  couldn't 
sing ;  she  couldn't  act ;  she  couldn't  draw ; 
she  couldn't  write;  she  couldn't  play. 
Then  what  on  earth,  she  asked  herself, 
could  she  do  ?  No  wonder  her  poor  little 
head  ached!  No  wonder  that,  as  the 
days  went  on,  there  were  times  when 
she  felt  like  taking  that  little  purple 
book  and  hurling  it  into  the  Quinebaug 
River  as  far  as  she  could  throw  it. 

She  was  glad  of  the  diversion  when 
Mr.  Chapman  rode  over  to  see  her  the 
week  before  school  started  and  explained 
the  lessons  for  the  first  term. 

"  I  had  a  young  gentleman  inquiring 
for  you  yesterday,"  he  said,  smiling  with 
significance  just  before  he  left. 

"  Oh !  "  said  Charlotte,  looking  very 
sedate  indeed. 

'*  Yes ;  Neil  Kennedy.  He  was  gradu- 
ated three  years  ago,  you  remember, 
and  won  the  Milner  scholarship.  At- 
tending medical  school  now.  He  asked 
to  be  remembered." 

72 


"I'M    GLAD    HE'S  GETTING  ON    SO  WELL,"  SAID  CHARLOTTE, 
POLITELY 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

"  Thank  you,"  said  Charlotte,  more 
sedate  than  before. 

"  A  fine  young  fellow — glad  you 
know  him,"  continued  Mr.  Chapman 
warmly.  "  Works  hard  every  summer, 
so  he'll  have  a  few  hundred  dollars  saved 
to  start  practice  with.  Going  to  make 
his  mark  in  the  world.  Just  the  sort  of 
a  boy  I  like!" 

"  I'm  glad  he's  getting  on  so  well," 
said  Charlotte,  politely  enough. 

But  that  night,  when  she  went  down 
to  the  village  to  call  on  Dame  Johnson, 
she  began  thinking  it  over;  and  when 
she  walked  back  in  the  moonlight  under 
the  Marlin  elms,  she  began  thinking  it 
over  again;  and  the  more  she  thought 
it  over  the  more  indignant  she  grew. 

"  I  don't  see  why  Mr.  Chapman  spoke 
like  that,"  she  said.  "  Neil  Kennedy's 
nothing  to  me !  What  if  he  has  his  plans? 
So  have  I!  What  if  he  does  make  his 
mark  in  the  world?  Can't  I  make  mine? 

73 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

Yes,  and  I  will,  too,  or  know  the  reason 
why." 

But  oh,  what  a  problem — a  problem 
that  many  a  million  have  vainly  tried 
to  figure  out  since  this  old  world  began 
to  wag.  If  Charlotte  had  been  a  talented 
young  man  in  a  great  city  the  sum  would 
have  been  plenty  hard  enough — or  if  she 
had  been  a  rich  and  beautiful  girl  it 
would  have  been  plenty  hard  enough. 
But  when  you  consider  her  living  in  that 
deserted  village,  a  poor  little  school- 
ma'am  who  was  about  to  teach  for 
twenty-five  dollars  a  month;  a  poor  lit- 
tle schoolma'am,  moreover,  with  a  nose 
inclined  to  be  beaky  and  a  chin  inclined 
to  be  sensitive;  why  then  you  can  begin 
to  see  what  sort  of  a  sum  it  was  that  she 
had  set  herself. 

Yet  if  you  had  met  Charlotte  on 
Thanksgiving  afternoon  that  year,  as 
she  strode  over  the  fields  above  the  farm, 
I  don't  think  you  would  have  quarreled 
with  her  appearance.  The  sun  and  the 

74 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

wind  had  kissed  her  cheeks  till  they 
looked  like  ripe  apples;  her  eyes  had 
that  depth  of  tenderness  which  seems  to 
be  reserved  for  old-fashioned  girls ;  and 
the  knowledge  that  everybody  liked  her 
had  given  her  an  indefinable  winsome- 
ness  of  manner  which  can  only  be  sug- 
gested by  the  word  "  charm." 

Summer  and  autumn  in  the  country 
had  done  her  a  world  of  good.  She  was 
developing  like  a  young  goddess,  and 
there  were  moments  when  she  had  such  a 
vibrant  gift  of  life  that  she  threw  out 
her  arms  and  felt  she  could  fly.  That 
afternoon,  particularly,  as  she  strode  up 
the  hill  which  overlooked  the  farm,  she 
walked  as  though  her  feet  refused  to 
stay  on  the  ground,  and  over  and  over 
she  kept  repeating:  "  I've  got  it!  Yes, 
and  I'm  sure  I  can  do  it.  I'm  sure  I 
can — if  I'm  smart." 

She  reached  the  top  of  the  hill  quite 
out  of  breath,  and  made  for  an  oak  which 
overlooked  the  country  for  miles  around. 

75 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

There  she  sat  down  and  opened  the  two 
papers  which  she  had  been  carrying 
under  her  arm.  In  each  was  the  half- 
tone picture  of  a  happy  if  somewhat  dis- 
heveled young  woman,  and  both  pictures 
bore  the  caption :  "  Miss  Agnes  Here- 
ford. International  Woman  Golf 
Champion." 

"  Of  course,  I  don't  know  the  first 
thing  about  golf  now,"  mused  Char- 
lotte breathlessly,  "  except  what  I've 
read  in  the  papers.  But  once  upon  a 
time  Miss  Hereford  didn't  know  the  first 
thing  about  it,  either,  and  didn't  she 
win  the  championship?  'And  now  I 
know  that  a  girl  can  practice  by  Kerself . 
And  now  I  know  that  a  great  big  farm 
like  this  is  the  very  best  place  to  prac- 
tice, too.  So  all  I've  got  to  do  is  to  prac- 
tice— and  practice — and  practice — 
morning,  noon,  and  night — more  than 
any  girl  in  the  world  ever  practiced  be- 
fore. And  then  "  A  thrill  ran 

over   her   as    she    continued    in    awe- 

76 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

stricken  accents  "  '  Miss  Charlotte  Mar- 
lin,  International  Woman  Golf  Cham- 
pion ' — and  I'll  be  famous,  too!  " 

She  sat  there  dreaming  and  looking 
over  the  west  till  the  spell  of  the  sunset 
claimed  her,  as  it  always  had  claimed 
her  ever  since  she  could  remember,  with 
its  golden  mystery,  its  gorgeous  gran- 
deur, its  promise  and  fulfilment  of  things 
that  are  felt  but  not  seen. 

"  What  a  beautiful  world!  "  breathed 
Charlotte. 

She  arose,  feeling  herself  a  part  of 
the  wonder  and  glory  around  her.  In 
the  road  below  a  moving  figure  caught 
her  eye. 

"  Neil  Kennedy,"  she  thought,  frown- 
ing a  little,  the  spell  lifting.  "  Home 
for  Thanksgiving,  I  guess." 

And,  her  frown,  deepening,  the  spell 
quite  broken,  she  asked  herself: 

"  What  has  he  come  for? " 


CHAPTER  V 

LOOKING  at  Charlotte's  Three  Great 
Sums  from  one  point  of  view,  you  will 
probably  agree  that  they  had  a  stu- 
pendous quality  in  them.  She  was  plain, 
and  yet  she  had  made  up  her  mind  that 
every  body  who  knew  her  should  like 
her. 

She  lived  in  a  practically  deserted 
village,  eight  miles  away  from  the  near- 
est town  or  station,  and  yet  she  had  re- 
solved to  be  famous. 

And  finally  she  was  poor,  her  only  in- 
come being  the  twenty-five  dollars  a 
month  which  she  received  for  teaching 
the  school  at  Marlin  Mills — and  yet  she 
had  determined  to  marry  one  of  the 
handsomest  and  richest  young  men  in 
the  whole  United  States — whoever  and 
wherever  he  might  be! 

But  for  all  the  stupendous  nature  of 

78 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

the  Three  Great  Sums  which  she  had  set 
herself,  they  also  had  in  them  that  mag- 
nificient  quality  of  simplicity — stu- 
pendous simplicity,  if  you  like — which 
might  be  said  to  be  the  spirit  of  America. 
Indeed,  in  an  allegorical  way  of  speak- 
ing I  like  to  think  that  Charlotte's  story 
is  a  story  of  the  spirit  of  American 
womanhood,  daring  in  its  ideals,  regard- 
ing no  ambition  too  high  to  be  realized, 
and  building  up,  step  by  step,  a  beacon 
light  which  yet  may  illumine  the  world. 
For  two  years  after  organizing  her 
Marlin  Mills  Golf  Association  (with  its 
total  membership  of  one!)  Charlotte 
practiced,  and  worked,  and  studied  with 
a  single  end  in  view.  She  sent  for  all  the 
golf  books  she  could  find,  subscribed  to 
a  golf  magazine,  memorized  the  records, 
studied  the  diagrams  of  the  leading 
links,  discovered  there  was  a  golf  course 
near  New  London,  became  a  non-resi- 
dent member  (which  required  the  help 
of  Judge  Darbie  and  Mr.  Chapman), 

79 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

went  down  there  on  Saturday  mornings 
as  often  as  she  could  afford  it,  made  the 
club  professional  like  her  by  that  reason- 
able, rational  method  of  liking  him  first, 
and  secured  his  advice  on  the  many 
points  where  she  felt  herself  weak. 

"  My  conscience!  "  he  exclaimed  one 
morning,  after  he  had  watched  her  play 
a  particularly  difficult  shot.  ;'  Where 
did  ye  learn  that  now,  I  wonder?  " 

But  if  he  had  seen  her  at  home,  driv- 
ing the  ball  around  the  old  Marlin  farm, 
he  wouldn't  have  wondered.  Or  if  he 
had  seen  her  playing  golf  along  the 
country  lanes  and  over  the  fields  on  her 
way  to  school  and  back,  attended  by  her 
Seven  Faithful  Caddies,  he  wouldn't 
have  wondered  either!  Such  hazards 
she  had  to  play !  Such  shots  she  had  to 
make!  Stone  walls  had  to  be  consid- 
ered, ruts,  swamps,  patches  of  poison 
ivy,  brush  fields,  Miss  Hawley's  geese 
and  Bates'  bull — oh,  something  like 
practice — and  practical  practice — and 

80 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

merry  practice,  too — with  Billy  Bates 
shouting  "  Jim'ny  Christmas !  "  every 
time  she  made  a  good  drive,  and  exclaim- 
ing "  Plop!  "  every  time  the  ball  rolled 
into  the  hole. 

Some  days  the  grass  would  be  wet  and 
Charlotte  would  say  to  herself,  even  as 
you  or  I  might  have  done:  "  I'll  take  a 
rest  to-day.  No  use  getting  my  feet 
wet."  But  then  the  thought  would  come 
to  her:  "  Suppose  the  grass  is  wet  on  the 
day  of  the  championship !"  And  a  few 
minutes  later  you  would  have  found  her 
out  in  the  orchard,  driving  the  ball 
around  among  the  trees  and  getting  up 
such  an  appetite  for  breakfast! 

Or  some  days  she  wouldn't  be  feeling 
up  to  the  mark,  and  then  she  would  say 
to  herself,  even  as  you  or  I  might  have 
done:  "  I  guess  I'll  take  a  rest  to-day. 
No  use  making  myself  sick."  And  then 
would  come  the  answering  thought: 
"  But  suppose  you  feel  this  way  on  the 
day  of  the  championship?  You've  got 

6  81 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

to  be  ready  for  anything! "  Then  out 
she'd  go  and  "fight  it  off "  till  her 
cheeks  glowed  with  that  satisfaction 
which  comes  from  work  well  done,  and 
her  eyes  were  bright  with  the  victory  of 
the  spirit  which  never  says  "  Oh,  I 
can't !" 

After  the  first  burst  of  wonder,  her 
golf  was  taken  as  a  matter  of  course  in 
the  village.  Nay,  more:  it  was  openly 
defended.  "  A  girl  of  that  age  has  to 
have  suthin'  to  put  her  mind  on,"  said 
old  Dame  Johnson  one  afternoon,  nod- 
ding her  head  with  the  wisdom  of  her 
seventy-five  years.  "  And  me,  I'd 
ruther  see  her  traipsin'  around  after  that 
little  white  ball  than  running  around 
after  some  wuthless  young  fellow  who'd 
marry  her  out  of  hand  and  move  her 
away  afore  you  could  say  '  Jack  Rob- 
inson!'" 

\  "  She  don't  have  to  run  after  the 
young  fellows,"  said  the  coquettish  Miss 
Hawley,  holding  out  her  ear  trumpet. 

82 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

"  The  young  fellows  are  running  after 
her." 

"  Pooh !  You  mean  that  young  spark 
fromPenfield?" 

"  Yes,  him.  I  see  him  around  in  his 
car  again  this  afternoon." 

"  Don't  you  worry  about  him.  I  see 
Charlotte  talking  to  him  the  other  day 
— and  the  stiff  way  she  was  holding  her 
back !  I  tell  you  right  now,  he  might  as 
well  stay  home  and  save  his  gaso-leen." 

In  this  spirited  manner  the  village 
gossiped  about  young  Doctor  Kennedy, 
and  if  the  old  dame  could  have  seen  him 
at  that  moment  her  opinion  of  his 
chances  would  have  gone  down  lower 
yet.  Charlotte  had  been  practicing  dif- 
ficult shots  in  the  old  gravel  pit  when 
Neil's  car  stopped. 

"Hello,  Charlotte!"  he  cheerfully 
cried. 

She  gave  him  a  glance  which  seemed 
to  say  "  What?  You  here  again? " 
A.nd  turning  back  to  her  practice  she 

83 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

remarked  in  the  cold  tone  of  formality : 
"How  do  you  do,  Neil?" 

"  Just  happened  to  be  passing,"  he 
said.  "  And,  of  course,  I  couldn't  help 
stopping." 

Festooned  around  the  edge  of  the  pit 
were  the  Seven  Faithful  Ones,  their 
fourteen  eyes  gravely  watching,  their 
fourteen  ears  gravely  listening.  Char- 
lotte went  on  trying  her  difficult  shots, 
and  a  naughty,  yes,  a  wicked  thought 
gradually  took  shape  in  her  mind,  as 
wicked  thoughts  have  taken  shape  since 
time  immemorial. 

"  I  practiced  how  to  make  people  like 
me,"  she  thought,  "  because  that  was  my 
First  Sum.  And  I'm  practising  this 
because  of  my  Second  Sum.  But  there's 
one  thing  I've  never  practiced  yet " 

She  checked  her  thoughts  and  blushed 
tremendously,  those  fourteen  eyes  re- 
garding her  gravely  from  the  edge  of  the 
pit.  "  I  don't  care,"  she  thought,  flying 
to  her  own  defense ;  "  he's  got  no  right 

84 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

to  come  around  bothering  me  like  this." 

And  though,  even  then,  she  wouldn't 
put  her  thought  into  words,  if  you  could 
have  looked  deep  down  into  her  mind, 
and  have  lifted  the  veil  of  modesty  which 
you  would  have  found  there,  you  would 
have  come  to  one  of  those  secret  places 
which  all  of  us  keep  hidden  in  the  depths 
of  our  consciousness — and  in  that  secret 
place  of  Charlotte's  mind  you  would 
have  found  this  unphrased  thought 
burning  ever  so  brightly,  ever  so  imp- 
ishly: "  I'm  going  to  pretend  he's  a  mil- 
lionaire— and  practice  on  him !  " 

"  Don't  you  want  to  take  the  children 
home  in  your  car?  " 

Fourteen  bright  eyes  turned  upon  the 
young  physician,  and  the  fire  of  hope 
flared  high  in  seven  young  hearts. 

"  I'd  rather  take  you  home,"  he 
bluntly  replied. 

Charlotte  tried  that  difficult  shot 
again.  "  You  can  come  back  for  me," 
she  said. 

85 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

Whereupon  he  beckoned  the  Faithful 
Seven  with  enthusiasm,  and  with  en- 
thusiasm they  tumbled  down  into  the 
pit  and  charged  upon  the  car.  How 
they  stowed  themselves  in  that  single- 
seated  runabout  can  better  be  imagined 
than  described.  All  you  could  see  were 
seven  excited  children,  and  the  doctor's 
head,  and  a  suggestion  of  wheels.  And 
when  the  Little  Rattler  started  off,  in- 
stead of  its  customary  clashing  and 
gnashing  of  gears,  its  rackety  clatter  of 
fenders  and  hood,  all  you  could  hear 
were  the  Seven  Faithful  Ones  who  were 
having  the  first  car  ride  of  their  young 
lives  and  were  finding  it  filled  with  the 
most  exquisite  emotions. 

Compared  to  this  loud  departure,  it 
didn't  seem  like  the  same  Little  Rattler 
which  came  back  twenty  minutes  later 
and  quietly  waited,  its  door  open,  for 
Charlotte  to  take  her  place. 

"  Where  shall  we  go?  "  asked  Neil. 

"  I  thought  you  were  going  to  take  me 

86 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

home,"  said  Charlotte,  looking  at  him 
with  her  deeply  expressive  eyes. 

"  Oh,  I  can  always  take  you  home. 
But  where  shall  we  go  first?  " 

Charlotte  considered  for  a  moment, 
and  then  her  weakness  for  sunsets  pre- 
vailed. "  Suppose  we  take  this  road  to 
the  top  of  the  hill,"  she  said.  "  There's 
a  beautiful  view  from  there." 

As  though  it  heard  her,  the  Little 
Rattler  at  once  roared  forward  and  be- 
gan to  storm  up  the  hill. 

"  You  know,  it  won't  always  be  like 
this,"  said  Neil.  "  A  doctor  has  to  go 
slow  the  first  year,  but  it  won't  be  long 
now  before  I'll  be  making  a  good  living. 
Say!  Did  you  ever  see  my  pill  box?  " 

Written  down,  it  looks  like  a  prosaic 
question,  but  you  would  have  been  sur- 
prised at  the  sentiment  which  the  young 
physician  managed  to  crowd  into  it. 

"  N-no,"  said  Charlotte. 

"  I'll  show  it  to  you  as  soon  as  we  get 
to  the  top." 

87 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

Saying  so,  he  stole  a  glance  at  her, 
and  at  the  same  time  (covertly  studying 
him)  she  happened  to  be  stealing  a 
glance  at  him.  The  next  moment  Char- 
lotte was  staring  straight  ahead ;  but  the 
young  physican  wasn't ! 

'  You  know,  I  don't  expect  to  be  a 
country  doctor  all  my  life,"  he  con- 
tinued. "  Some  day  I'm  going  to  New 
York  and  take  a  post-graduate  course 
in  surgery,  and  keep  working  and  study- 
ing till  I  get  to  be  one  of  the  best-known 
surgeons  in  the  country.  You'd  be  sur- 
prised how  much  those  fellows  make  out 
of  a  single  operation.  Why  some  of  'em 
won't  look  at  anything  less  than  a  thou- 
sand dollars! " 

They  had  reached  the  top  of  the  hill, 
and,  as  it  wasn't  yet  time  for  the  sunset, 
Charlotte  looked  at  the  pill  box  with  its 
ingenious  rows  of  vials  and  multicolored 
pellets. 

"  Isn't  it  wonderful!  "  she  said,  glanc- 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

ing  at  him  with  her  deeply  expressive 
eyes. 

She  looked  back  at  the  vials  and 
noticed  that  his  hand  trembled  as  it 
moved  over  them,  and  his  voice  trem- 
bled, too,  as  hands  and  voices  have 
trembled  since  time  immemorial  when 
young  men  have  felt  their  time  is  grow- 
ing short. 

In  the  west  the  sun  had  fallen  below 
the  horizon  and  the  magic  glow  of  the 
sunset  fell  on  the  valley  below,  which 
waited,  hushed  and  expectant,  for  the 
greater  glory  of  color  to  come.  As  Neil 
went  on  talking,  it  seemed  to  Charlotte 
that  her  heart  had  never  been  so  full, 
that  she  had  never  been  so  near  to  under- 
standing the  Greatest  Sum  of  All — that 
Sum  which  starts  in  the  sunset  and  which 
never,  never  ends. 

It  was  Neil's  voice  which  broke  the 
spell :  "  And  when  I'm  getting,  say, 
twenty-five  a  week,  sure,  you  can  quit 
this  school-teaching  and  we'll  get  mar- 

89 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

ried,  and  rent  that  house  of  Doctor  Bald- 
win's, furnished " 

"  Oh!  "  gasped  Charlotte.  "  No,  no, 
Neil!  Stop!  You  mustn't! " 

;'  Why  not? "  he  gently  demanded, 
trying  to  find  her  hand. 

In  the  panic  which  fell  upon  her, 
Charlotte's  thoughts  rallied  around  her 
favorite  formula:  "I've  got  to  be 
smart! "  Instinctively  feeling  that 
flight  was  the  only  way  to  safety,  she 
jumped  out  of  the  car  and  pulled  her 
golf  clubs  after  her.  "Oh,  Neil,  I 
can't !  "  she  said.  "  You  don't  under- 
stand! I — I'll  take  a  short  cut  through 
the  fields  and  you'll  be  home  all  the 
sooner.  Good-bye." 

She  was  over  the  wall  before  he  real- 
ized what  she  was  doing  and  had  dis- 
appeared among  the  birches.  Then, 
too  late,  he  followed  after  and  found 
himself  lost  in  the  brush. 

"  Oh,  Charlotte!  "  he  cried. 

But  no  voice  answered.    He  heard  a 

90 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

noise  among  the  leaves,  and,  hurrying 
toward  it,  he  found  it  was  a  flock  of 
quail  which  had  been  settling  for  the 
night. 

"  Oh,  Charlotte! "  he  cried  again. 

But  no  voice  answered  him.  Sadly, 
lonesomely,  then,  he  returned  to  the 
Little  Rattler  and,  when  he  glanced  at  it 
from  over  the  wall,  he  saw  that  it  had 
taken  upon  itself  a  strange,  blurred  ap- 
pearance, as  though  he  were  looking  at 
it  through  a  pane  of  rain-swept  glass. 


CHAPTER  VI 

CHARLOTTE  hurried  down  to  the  open 
fields  below,  vaguely  frightened  at  the 
pounding  of  her  heart,  vaguely  angry 
with  herself  because  she  felt  that  way. 
"  As  though  I'd  drop  my  plans  for 
him!"  she  thought.  "Would  he  drop 
his  for  me? " 

She  came  to  the  open  fields,  but  hesi- 
tated to  cross  them  for  fear  that  Neil 
might  be  watching  and  would  follow. 
"  I  wonder  if  he's  calling  yet,"  she 
smiled  half  wistfully,  half  defiantly; 
and,  still  smiling,  she  bent  her  head  and 
listened.  Presently  from  the  road  she 
heard  the  noise  of  the  Little  Rattler, 
clattering  down  the  hill.  She  pictured 
Neil  at  the  wheel,  lonely,  disappointed, 
sadly  going  down  the  hill  which  he  had 
mounted  with  such  high  hopes. 

"  I  don't  care!  "  she  thought,  tossing 

92 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

her  head.  "  People  have  to  be  smart 
and  think  of  themselves  if  they  want  to 
get  on  in  the  world.  He  was  thinking 
of  himself  when  he  asked  me,  and  I  was 
thinking  of  myself  when  I  ran  away. 
.  .  .  All  the  same,  I'm  glad  I  didn't 
have  to  practice  on  him.  It  was  a  horrid 
idea,  and  I'm  glad  I  didn't  have  to.  And 
I've  found  that  a  man  can  love  me  if  he 
likes  me — yes,  homely  as  I  am — and 
that's  an  awful  lot  to  know." 

It  was  knowledge,  indeed,  that  gave 
her  a  deeper  hold  on  life.  Even  as  she 
swung  down  the  fields  to  the  farm,  there 
seemed  to  be  a  greater  sense  of  assur- 
ance in  her  poise,  a  prouder  tilt  to  the 
angle  of  her  chin;  and  in  the  next  few 
weeks  the  Faithful  Seven  might  have 
seen  greater  depths  of  tenderness  in  her 
eyes,  especially  when  she  turned  to 
answer  a  question  after  looking  through 
the  window  at  the  blue  sky  which  hung 
over  the  old  Marlin  elms  outside. 

"  I'm  glad  he  hasn't  come  back,"  said 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

Charlotte  the  day  after  school  had  closed 
for  the  summer.  From  which  you  can 
see  that  she  must  have  been  thinking  of 
Neil,  particularly  as  she  was  practising 
difficult  shots  in  the  gravel  pit.  "  To- 
morrow I'll  go  and  have  my  name 
entered  for  the  Woman's  Tournament, 
and  after  that,  of  course,  I  shan't  be  able 
to  think  of  anything  else." 

Next  morning  she  went  down  to  the 
New  London  Golf  Club  where,  as  you 
know,  she  was  already  good  friends  with 
Mr.  Ogilvie,  the  professional.  Perhaps 
her  adventure  with  Neil  had  given  an 
added  assurance  to  her  playing  as  well, 
but  whatever  it  was,  after  she  had  gone 
around  the  course  twice  with  Mr.  Ogil- 
vie, he  not  only  opened  his  eyes  in  the 
widest  amazement,  but  he  also  said: 
'  Will  ye  come  to  the  clubhouse  a  few 
minutes,  Miss  Marlin?  I  want  to  in- 
troduce you  to  our  president  and  have 
a  few  words  wi'  him." 

He  left  her  in  a  chair  on  the  veranda 

94 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

and  went  inside  to  find  Mr.  Phair,  the 
president.  Although  Charlotte  had 
never  seen  him,  she  had  read  of  him 
often ;  and  presently,  when  the  sound  of 
two  voices  came  through  an  open  win- 
dow, one  of  them  belonging  to  Mr. 
Ogilvie,  it  didn't  require  much  eif  ort  to 
deduce  that  the  other  belonged  to  Mr. 
Phair. 

"  I  tell  ye,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Ogilvie, 
"  I've  coached  her  till  she's  a  wonder. 
The  first  time  around  I  played  easy, 
being  unsuspicious,  and  she  beat  me. 
The  second  time  I  played  as  canny 
as  I  could,  but  she  beat  me  just  the 
same! " 

"  Good  for  the  home  talent!  "  laughed 
Mr.  Phair.  "  Yes,  I'd  like  to  meet  this 
prodigy  of  yours." 

They  found  Charlotte  on  a  corner  of 
the  veranda,  looking  out  over  the  Sound. 
"  You  live  near  New  London? "  Mr. 
Phair  asked  her,  when  they  had  chatted 
for  a  time. 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

"  No,"  said  Charlotte, "  I  live  at  Mar- 
lin  Mills." 

"Where's  that?" 

"  In  the  northeast  corner  of  the  state, 
*  the  wild  part  of  Connecticut ! '  '  she 
smiled.  And  then  in  an  honest  desire 
to  play  fair  with  this  twinkling-eyed, 
gray-haired  gentleman,  she  quietly 
added:  "I'm  the  school-teacher  up 
there." 

"No!"  he  cried  in  delight. 

"  Oh,  but  I  am,"  said  Charlotte,  and 
watched  to  see  how  he  would  take  it. 
"  Perhaps  he  won't  like  me,"  she 
thought,  "  now  he  knows  I'm  not  rich. 
Perhaps  he'll  change  his  tone,"  she 
thought,  "  now  he  knows  I'm  a  school- 
teacher." 

But  Charlotte  needn't  have  worried. 
For  one  reason,  Mr.  Phair  was  an 
American  gentleman,  which  is  as  far  as 
anyone  can  get  from  being  snobbish. 
And,  for  another  reason,  he  had  made 
his  own  millions  and  had  made  them 

96 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

honestly;  that  is  to  say,  he  had  the  gift 
of  imagination  and  knew  how  to  carry 
a  plan  out  well.  The  golf  course,  the 
huge  hotel,  whose  roof  could  be  seen 
above  the  trees,  the  concrete  road  which 
wound  along  the  shore  for  ten  miles  be- 
tween a  double  line  of  maples,  the  cot- 
tages, the  model  farm — all  these  were 
the  fruits  of  Mr.  Phair's  genius. 

"  My  dear  young  lady!  "  he  delight- 
edly cried  again,  "  if  you  can  only  win! 
But  where  have  you  been  practising? " 

:'  Up  at  the  farm.  The  fields  are 
much  like  the  links  here — all  hills  and 
hollows." 

A  deep  content  had  fallen  over  her. 
"  He  likes  me,"  she  thought,  "  even  if 
I  am  a  school-teacher.  He  likes  me  even 
if  I  am  poor  and  homely."  She  straight- 
way fell  to  liking  Mr.  Phair  with  all  her 
might  and  main,  and  when  they  parted 
half  an  hour  later  it  was  like  a  parting 
of  old  friends. 

"  I  shall  send  your  name  in  to-night," 

7  97 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

he  said.  "  And  if  you  can  bring  the 
championship  to  New  London — well, 
you  wait  and  see  what  happens  to  youl  " 

That  was  in  July,  and  the  tour- 
nament began  on  the  sixteenth  of 
August.  There  were  forty-seven  entries 
that  year  for  the  Woman's  International 
Title — including  two  from  Canada,  one 
from  Hawaii,  and  three  from  Great 
Britain,  among  the  latter  being  Lady 
Salisbury,  the  famous  English  player 
and  holder  of  the  title.  "Imagine!" 
murmured  Charlotte.  "  Coming  all  the 
way  from  Canada — and  Honolulu — and 
England — and  Scotland!  And  here  I 
have  the  boldness  to  think  that  I  can 
beat  them  all." 

For  a  little  while  her  heart  turned 
heavy  and  her  feet  turned  cold,  but  a 
few  minutes  later  Charlotte  tossed  her 
head  so  vigorously  that,  if  she  had  been 
a  queen,  her  crown  would  certainly  have 
tumbled  off.  "  No,  sir! "  she  cried. 
"  Lady  Salisbury  can't  frighten  me.  All 

98 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

the  champions  living  are  going  to  be 
beaten  some  day,  and  why  shouldn't  I 
beat  one? " 

But  the  next  day,  when  she  packed 
her  suit  case,  she  had  to  grow  quite 
angry  with  herself  to  keep  her  courage 
up,  and  when  Mr.  Briggs'  red-wheeled 
buggy  came  up  from  Penfield  to  take 
her  to  the  station  she  wept  openly  and 
bade  Aunt  Hepzibah  good-bye  as 
though  she  never  expected  to  see  her  in 
this  world  again. 

The  tournament  began  on  Monday. 
The  business  of  the  first  day  was  to  re- 
duce the  number  of  contestants  to  thirty- 
two.  Charlotte  started  early  and  turned 
in  a  score  which  easily  qualified  her  as  an 
entrant,  and  after  that  she  had  nothing 
to  do  except  watch  the  others. 

"  I  guess  I'm  the  only  poor  one,"  she 
thought  once.  "  All  the  others  seem  to 
have  that  dress  and  manner : 

She  was  anxious  to  see  Lady  Salis- 
bury, but  the  latter,  also  finishing  early, 

99 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

had  disappeared,  and  the  most  that 
Charlotte  could  learn  was  that  her  lady- 
ship was  staying  with  friends. 

"  It  must  be  nice  to  be  a  ladyship 
staying  with  friends,"  thought  Char- 
lotte, who  was  staying  at  a  boarding 
house  which  Mr.  Ogilvie  had  recom- 
mended; "  but  I  guess  I'll  see  her  soon 
enough.  I  only  hope  I  shan't  be  matched 
against  her  to-morrow/' 

The  next  day  the  thirty-two  qualify- 
ing players  were  paired  off  into  sixteen 
sets  of  opponents.  Charlotte  was 
matched  against  a  girl  from  California. 
After  the  first  few  minutes,  the  result 
was  never  in  doubt.  "  Take  it  easy, 
miss,"  said  the  highly  gratified  Mr. 
Ogilvie,  who  was  caddying  for  Char- 
lotte. "  You  hold  her  in  the  hollow  of 
your  hand." 

Thereafter  Mr.  Ogilvie's  face  de- 
noted such  stoniness  of  expression  that 
you  might  have  been  puzzled  to  know 

the  state  of  his  feelings ;  but  if  you  could 

100 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

have  seen  the  tremendous  winks  which 
he  secretly  gave  himself  from  time  to 
time,  you  would  have  known  that  at 
least  he  wasn't  unhappy. 

"  Didn't  I  tell  you? "  he  demanded, 
when  Charlotte  won  against  the  girl 
from  California. 

The  next  day  there  were  sixteen  sur- 
viving players,  which  made  eight  con- 
testing couples.  Charlotte  was  suffer- 
ing a  reaction  from  the  excitement  of 
the  day  before,  and  she  caused  Mr. 
Ogilvie  acute  suffering  for  the  first  four 
holes.  "  She's  cr-r-racking!  She's 
cr-r-racking  under  the  strain!"  he 
groaned  to  himself. 

But,  as  you  will  remember,  Charlotte 
had  made  it  a  point  to  practice  whenever 
she  felt  under  the  weather,  and  by  the 
time  they  had  finished  half  the  course 
Mr.  Ogilvie  was  breathing  easily  again. 
"  Eh,  but  she's  the  bonny  player! "  he 
told  Mr.  Phair  that  afternoon  when 
Charlotte  had  qualified  for  the  semi- 
101 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

finals.  "  She  was  a  wee  bit  shaky  at  the 
start,  but  I  soon  had  her  steadied  down." 

"  Where  is  she  now? "  asked  Mr. 
Phair. 

"  I  misdoubt  she's  watching  Lady 
Salisbury  playing  her  last  few  holes." 

They  found  her,  very  quiet  and  very 
thoughtful.  "  No  wonder  she's  the 
champion,"  she  was  thinking,  as  Lady 
Salisbury  made  a  smashing  drive  right 
straight  for  the  last  hole.  "  If  I  could 
only  play  like  that !  " 

From  this  melancholy  wish  she  was 
aroused  by  the  pleasant  voice  of  Mr. 
Phair  who  introduced  Mrs.  Phair  to  her. 

"  Where  are  you  staying,  my  dear?  " 
asked  Mrs.  Phair,  when  they  had  con- 
gratulated Charlotte  on  her  showing  of 
the  last  two  days. 

"  I'm  boarding,"  she  answered  as 
honest  as  ever;  but  even  while  she  spoke 
she  couldn't  help  comparing  herself 
again  to  the  brilliant  Lady  Salisbury, 
"  who  was  staying  with  friends." 

102 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

"  I  want  you  to  come  and  stay  with 
us,"  said  Mrs.  Phair. 

"Oh,  thank  you,  but  I  couldn't!" 
gasped  Charlotte. 

"But,  my  dear;  why  not?  " 

"  I — I  only  brought  a  few  things  with 
me." 

"I  think  you're  very  sensible;  but 
really,  that  has  nothing  to  do  with  it. 
It  isn't  your  clothes,  you  know,  that 
Mr.  Phair  and  I  would  like  to  have  with 
us.  It's  yourself.  You've  no  idea  how 
interested  we  are  in  you,  and  how  we 
hope  you'll  win." 

"  But  I  should  feel  so  mortified  if  I 
didn't  win,"  protested  poor  Charlotte. 

"  Then  let  us  put  it  this  way,"  said 
Mrs.  Phair:  "if  you  win  you'll  come  and 
spend  a  week  or  two  with  us." 

"  I  should  love  to,"  said  Charlotte. 
"  But  it's  a  terrible  big  '  If ! '" 

Next  day  the  contestants  had  nar- 
rowed down  to  four.  To  Charlotte's 
relief  she  wasn't  matched  against  Lady 

103 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

Salisbury,  but  against  Mrs.  Hall,  a  vet- 
eran player  from  Long  Island.  Mr. 
Phair  must  have  whispered  a  few  words 
to  the  reporters  the  day  before,  because 
that  morning  nearly  every  metropolitan 
paper  had  a  story  in  it  about  the  "golfing 
schoolma'am,"  and  when  the  day's  play 
began,  the  gallery  which  followed  Char- 
lotte was  larger  than  Lady  Salisbury's. 

"  Oh,  I've  got  to  win!"  she  thought, 
noting  the  sympathetic  glances  and  the 
friendly  smiles  which  greeted  her  which- 
ever way  she  turned;  and  her  heart 
warmed  to  these  strangers  who  were 
evidently  wishing  her  well. 

Under  this  influence  she  grandly  rose 
to  expectations,  helped  also  by  the  fact 
that  she  had  the  advantage  of  youth  in 
her  favor.  The  veteran  Mrs.  Hall  was 
feeling  the  effect  of  the  four  days'  grind, 
and  her  play  seemed  pale  when  com- 
pared to  the  fire  of  her  opponent's.  In 
short,  Charlotte  won  so  easily  that  it 
surprised  herself;  and  when  a  friendly 

104 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

cheer  greeted  the  result,  she  felt  that 
quick,  tearful  pride  which  she  had  al- 
ways felt  at  school  upon  seeing  Mr. 
Chapman  come  into  the  room  and  begin 
writing  on  the  board: 

ROLL  OF  HONOR 
1.  CHARLOTTE  MARLIN    2.  JAMES 


Lady  Salisbury  also  won  her  match 
that  day. 

"  I  thought  as  much,"  said  Mr.  Ogilvie 
in  a  fine,  stony  ecstasy.  '  Ye'll  have  to 
fight  it  out  wi'  her  ladyship  to-morrow. 
But  now  I  want  you  to  come  and  let  the 
newspaper  lads  take  your  photo.  'Tis  a 
matter  I  promised  them  faithfully  if 
they'd  let  you  alone  on  the  links." 

He  led  her  to  the  south  side  of  the 
clubhouse,  where  the  photographers 
were  waiting,  and  a  moment  later  Mr. 
Phair  appeared  with  Lady  Salisbury. 
The  two  contestants  stood  side  by  side 
while  the  camera  shutters  clicked.  Lady 
Salisbury  was  a  tall,  striking  type  of 

105 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

rather  masterful  beauty,  and  there  was 
somewhat  more  condescension  than 
friendliness  in  her  first  manner  to  Char- 
lotte— the  manner  of  a  grand  lady  who 
might  be  talking  to  a  governess.  Char- 
lotte went  into  her  shell  directly,  her 
heart  fluttering  more  than  a  little. 

But  that  was  nothing  to  the  way  it 
fluttered  the  next  morning  when  she 
stepped  forward  to  lead  off  the  deciding 
game.  Around  them  was  one  of  the 
largest  crowds  ever  assembled  on  an 
American  golf  course,  but  all  that  Char- 
lotte was  conscious  of  at  first  was  the 
critical  eye  of  Lady  Salisbury. 

"I  wish  she  wouldn't  stare  so!" 
thought  Charlotte,  becoming  more  and 
more  self-conscious  every  moment. 

She  furtively  glanced  around  and  saw 
that  everyone  else  was  watching  her 
too;  whereat  her  self -consciousness 
reached  its  climax.  Her  cheeks  tingled ; 
her  knees  started  trembling. 

106 


LADY  SALISBURY  S   CRITICAL   EYE  WAS    FOLLOWING    HER    LIKE   A 
SEARCHLIGHT 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

"  It's  because  I'm  such  a  plain  thing  I" 
she  sighed  as  she  advanced  to  the  ball. 

Lady  Salisbury's  critical  eye  was  fol- 
lowing her  like  a  searchlight,  and  alto- 
gether it  wasn't  surprising  that  after  a 
wild  swing  Charlotte  nearly  missed  her 
ball,  which  rolled  forward  a  few  mis- 
erable feet  instead  of  sailing  grandly 
half  way  to  the  hole. 

The  gallery  gasped.  Mr.  Ogilvie 
groaned.  And,  fortunately  for  Char- 
lotte, Lady  Salisbury  smiled.  Yes,  for- 
tunately for  Charlotte!  And  why?  Be- 
cause it  only  needed  Lady  Salisbury's 
smile  to  drive  the  blush  from  her  cheeks 
and  to  stiffen  her  knees  till  they  felt  as 
firm  as  two  steel  sockets.  "  I'll  show 
them,"  she  breathed;  "yes — homely  as 
I  am!" 

It  was  a  thought  which  had  won  her 
many  a  struggle.  She  was  no  longer 
playing  Lady  Salisbury;  she  was  play- 
ing her  old  imagined  enemy — that 
wicked  fairy  who  had  tiptoed  to  her 
107 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

cradle  and  given  her  the  Marlin  nose 
and  chin !  She  was  no  longer  Charlotte 
Marlin;  she  was  the  apple-tree  girl — 
a  little  Miss  Moses  on  a  pilgrimage, 
leading  herself  and  her  sisters  into  a 
promised  land  where  pretty  maids  count 
about  the  same  as  pretty  men,  and  the 
average  girl  can  be  a  heroine  just  as 
well  as  though  she  were  a  modern  Hebe ! 

Lady  Salisbury  drove  off — with  a 
beautiful  drive — and  then  Charlotte  ad- 
vanced to  her  ball  again.  And,  oh,  what 
a  silence  fell  upon  the  gallery!  With 
deadly  precision  Charlotte  gave  the  ball 
such  a  horrible  smack  that  it  swirled  in 
the  air  as  though  shot  from  a  gun.  It 
sailed  straight  down  the  course  and 
landed  thirty  yards  in  front  of  Lady 
Salisbury's ! 

'  Ye'll  be  all  right  again  now,"  said 
Mr.  Ogilvie,  with  the  exalted  assurance 
of  one  who  knows  that  his  prayers  have 
been  answered;  and  when  Charlotte's 
next  shot  took  her  ball  to  within  a  few 

108 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

feet  of  the  hole,  Mr.  Ogilvie  privately 
remarked  in  an  aside  to  Lady  Salis- 
bury's caddie: 

"  Mon,  you're  beat  before  you  start. 
You  might  as  well  pack  up  your  box  and 
go  home !" 

It  would  take  an  epic  writer  to  do  full 
justice  to  that  game — to  tell  how  Char- 
lotte first  went  ahead,  how  Lady  Salis- 
bury overtook  her,  how  they  tied  five 
holes  in  succession,  how  Lady  Salisbury 
stared,  how  Charlotte  stared  back,  how 
the  gallery  nudged  one  another,  how 
Charlotte  began  to  forge  ahead,  how 
desperately  Lady  Salisbury  tried  to 
overcome  the  lead,  how  she  gradually 
pulled  up,  and  how  the  gallery  thrilled 
when  Charlotte  forged  ahead  again, 
simply  because  she  could  hit  the  ball 
harder  than  Lady  Salisbury. 

And  why  could  Charlotte  hit  the  ball 
so  hard?  First,  because  she  was  fight- 
ing for  a  principle;  and,  second,  with- 
out a  doubt,  because  of  Micah's  apple 

109 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

tree!  As  long  as  she  could  remember, 
she  had  carefully  refrained  from  bury- 
ing anything  at  the  roots  of  her  tree 
which  might  show  upon  the  fruit  when 
the  day  of  harvest  came.  She  had  lived 
simply,  sweetly — yes,  and  wisely,  even 
to  such  little  things  as  avoiding  those 
late  hours  which  are  sometimes  unavoid- 
able if  one  is  "  staying  with  friends." 

In  short,  when  Lady  Salisbury 
cracked  under  the  strain  at  the  four- 
teenth hole  (and  quite  lost  her  temper 
for  a  minute),  Charlotte  won  the  next 
three  holes  without  the  least  effort  in  the 
world,  and  had  not  only  gained  the  In- 
ternational Championship  and  brought 
the  title  back  to  America,  but  had  also 
solved  her  Second  Great  Sum. 

With  all  the  handicaps  in  the  world 
against  her,  with  no  one  to  thank  but 
her  brave,  old-fashioned,  little  self,  she 
had  quietly  emerged  from  the  obscurity 
of  Marlin  Mills — and  had  made  herself 
famous ! 

no 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  Phairs,  listening  to  no  excuses, 
took  Charlotte  home  and  installed  her 
in  a  beautiful  room  overlooking  the 
Sound — a  room  and  a  view  each  like  a 
scene  from  fairyland. 

"  Some  day,"  thought  Charlotte  after 
she  had  done  her  hair  up  for  the  night, 
"  I  shall  have  a  house  like  this — when  I 
have  married  my  millionaire !  " 

She  smiled  a  little  as  she  said  it,  but 
she  didn't  smile  long,  because  the  more 
she  thought  about  it,  the  more  she  felt 
that  her  Third  Great  Sum  should  be 
solved  now  or  never.  "  I've  got  a  chance 
to  meet  one  here,"  she  mused,  meaning, 
of  course,  a  millionaire ;  "  but  if  I  wait 
till  I  get  back  home " 

For  a  long  time  she  sat  there,  dream- 
ing and  thinking,  even  as  she  dreamed 
in 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

and  thought  over  her  other  two  sums 
before  she  had  found  the  answers. 

"  It's  so  hard  to  tell  about  young 
men,"  she  told  herself.  "  I  might  meet 
someone  here  to-morrow  and  think  he 
was  all  right;  but  he  might  be  married 
or  he  might  be  engaged,  and  there's 
hardly  any  way  of  finding  out  unless 
you  ask.  And  what  would  Mrs.  Phair 
think  if  I  went  around  asking:  '  Is  he 
single?  Is  he  engaged?  Is  he  rich? ' 
She'd  know  right  away  what  I  meant." 

Thus  she  sat  there  dreaming  and  look- 
ing1 out  at  the  moonlight  on  the  water, 
as  girls  have  sat  and  dreamed  since  time 
immemorial — and  on  much  the  same 
subject.  "Besides,"  she  thought,  "if 
I  met  him  here  I  might  never  see  him 
again.  If  I  could  only  think  of  some 
romantic  way  to  make  his  acquaintance 
— some  way  he'd  never  forget !  "  Again 
for  a  long  time  she  sat  and  dreamed — 
and  then  she  suddenly  laughed,  an  irre- 
pressible little  laugh.  "  Wouldn't  it  be 
112 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

funny?  "  she  chuckled  to  herself.  And 
even  after  she  had  said  her  prayers  and 
curled  herself  up  for  the  night,  that  irre- 
pressible little  laugh  kept  rising  in  the 
darkness  like  so  many  flights  of  a  mid- 
night lark  which  had  ever  such  a  rollick- 
ing story  to  tell. 

The  next  day  was  Sunday,  a  day  of 
rest  from  sums  both  great  and  small. 
But  on  Monday  afternoon,  when  Char- 
lotte strolled  over  to  the  Golf  Club  she 
had  an  indescribable  but  imminent  man- 
ner, as  though  she  were  about  to  embark 
upon  an  important  enterprise.  The 
verandas  were  filled,  and  as  soon  as  she 
could  escape  from  the  congratulations 
which  swept  upon  her  like  an  admiring 
tidal  wave,  she  sought  Mr.  Ogilvie,  sent 
him  for  their  clubs,  and  took  him  to  the 
bench  near  the  first  tee,  where  they  could 
watch  the  players  starting  over  the 
course. 

"  I  suppose  you  know  everybody  here, 
Mr.  Ogilvie,"  she  said. 

8  113 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

"  Aye,  there's  not  many  I  miss,"  he 
confessed. 

"  And  some  are  poor,  I  suppose,  and 
some  are  rich? " 

"  Aweel,  I'd  say  that  some  were  rich 
and  some  were  richer.  There's  not  much 
poverty  in  yon  crowd." 

"  Isn't  it  funny!  "  said  Charlotte  with 
an  innocent  look.  "  I  never  saw  a  mil- 
lionaire till  I  came  down  here.  It's  a 
treat  to  me  just  to  see  them — to  find  out 
what  they  look  like.  Now  take  that 
man  who's  just  starting  out — is  he  a 
millionaire? " 

"  N-no,"  said  the  judgmatic  Mr. 
Ogilvie,"  "  he's  what  I'd  call  just  ordi- 
nary rich.  But  if  you'll  wait  a  bit  I'll 
point  ye  out  a  few  who  can  count  it  by 
the  million.  .  .  . 

"There  now!"  he  presently  con- 
tinued. "  Ye  see  that  stout  old  gentle- 
man in  the  white  shoes  ?  He's  one !  And 
ye  see  that  wiry  mon  with  the  brown 
mustache?  He's  one!" 

114 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

For  the  next  five  minutes  Mr.  Ogilvie 
led  Charlotte  around  the  edges  of  her 
destiny,  and  then  at  last  he  guided  her 
straight  to  what  she  had  been  all  the 
time  hoping  she  would  find. 

"  Look  now!  "  he  said.  "  Ye  see  the 
young  mon  who's  just  starting  out?  It's 
Perry  Graham;  ye've  heard  o'  him! 
Rich?  Eh,  rich  is  no  name  for  it!  " 

"  Wasn't  his  father  in  steamships  or 
something? "  asked  Charlotte. 

"  Aye !  Steamships  and  railroads  and 
banks  and  trust  companies,  and  nubbody 
knows  what  all!  But  when  he  died  two 
years  ago,  mark  ye  now,  he  couldn't  take 
a  penny  of  it  with  him.  So  his  boy 
Perry  come  in  for  it  all." 

"  Was  that  his  wife  I  met  on  the  ver- 
anda? "  asked  Charlotte. 

"  Perry's  wife?  Not  likely!  He  isna 
married." 

"  I  wonder  why.'* 

"  Courted  to  death,  I'm  thinking," 
said  Mr.  Ogilvie  dryly. 

115 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

"  Poor  thing!  "  said  Charlotte,  more 
dryly  than  he.  "  Well,  if  you're  ready 
now,  we'll  start." 

They  caught  up  to  the  highly  courted 
Perry  Graham  at  the  fourth  hole,  and 
Charlotte  had  a  good  chance  to  look  at 
him.  "  He's  really  handsome,"  she 
thought,  her  heart  beginning  to  pound 
as  she  thought  of  what  she  was  going  to 
do.  "I'd  better  do  it  now,"  she  hur- 
riedly added,  "  or  I'll  be  too  nervous." 

The  fourth  hole  at  New  London  is  a 
secluded  stretch  of  sward,  hidden  by  a 
hill  from  the  clubhouse  and  skirting  a 
grove  of  yellow  pines.  Mr.  Graham's 
first  shot  had  only  gone  about  twenty 
yards,  and  as  he  walked  toward  it  Char- 
lotte very  carefully  began  to  take  aim 
at  him.  At  home  she  had  often  prac- 
ticed hitting  trees  in  the  orchard;  but 
this,  you  see,  was  more  difficult  because 
the  tree  was  walking  away  from  her. 

"  I  don't  want  to  hit  him  too  hard," 
she  thought,  "  only  just  enough  to  tell 
him  how  sorry  I  am,  and  make  him  re- 

116 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

member.  And  then,  when  Mr.  Ogilvie 
introduces  me,  and  he  learns  that  I'm 
staying  with  the  Phairs — well,  anyhow, 
he'll  be  one  iron  in  the  fire." 

She  raised  her  club  for  the  swing,  and 
just  as  she  was  bringing  it  down,  Mr. 
Graham  half  turned. 

"  Look  out!  "  cried  Mr.  Ogilvie,  sud- 
denly seeing  the  danger. 

Whether  this  shout  upset  Charlotte 
she  never  could  tell  herself,  but  when 
she  made  her  drive  she  did  it  as  she  had 
always  practiced  driving.  She  made  it 
with  every  ounce  of  her  strength.  The 
ball  flew  forward  with  a  snarling  speed 
that  must  have  stung  the  air,  and  when 
Mr.  Graham  instinctively  ducked  to 
avoid  it,  he  received  it,  full  brunt,  on  the 
side  of  his  forehead. 

"Oh!"  gasped  Charlotte.  "I've 
killed  him!" 

The  next  moment  she  was  flying  to 
where  her  victim  lay  motionless  upon 
the  turf,  limp  and  oblivious  to  all  his 
earthly  cares. 

117 


CHAPTER  VIII 

WHEN  Perry  Graham  returned  to 
consciousness  after  being  hit  by  Char- 
lotte's golf  ball,  the  first  thing  he  saw 
was  a  pair  of  deeply  tender  eyes  look- 
ing straight  into  his.  The  next  thing  he 
discovered  was  the  less  romantic  fact 
that  he  was  lying  flat  on  the  grass  with 
Mr.  Ogilvie  slapping  his  palms. 

"What— what's  the  matter?"  he 
weakly  asked. 

"  Oh,  I'm  so  glad!  "  gasped  Charlotte, 
because  for  one  horrible  moment  she 
really  believed  she  had  killed  him.  Then 
realizing  that  her  gladness  must  seem 
out  of  place  to  the  prostrate  Mr. 
Graham,  she  hurriedly  corrected  herself, 
saying:  "  I'm  so  sorry!  " 

"What— what  was  it?"  he  further 
inquired. 

"  I  hit  you  on  the  head  with  a  ball," 

118 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

said  Charlotte  in  a  voice  not  far  from 
tears. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  remember  now."  He 
tried  to  rise,  but  Mr.  Ogilvie  had  to  help 
him. 

"  We  must  get  him  out  o'  the  sun," 
said  Mr.  Ogilvie  solicitously.  "  We 
must  try  to  get  him  to  yon  tree  by  the 
side  of  the  brook." 

They  went,  a  slowly  moving  proces- 
sion, Mr.  Graham  in  the  middle,  Char- 
lotte on  one  side  of  him  and  Mr.  Ogilvie 
on  the  other.  Behind  them  followed  the 
caddies,  solemnly  staring  and  forming 
one  of  the  strangest  equations  in  Char- 
lotte's Third  Great  Sum. 

"  I'm  so  sorry !  "  she  said  again.  A 
lump  was  rising  on  the  side  of  Mr. 
Graham's  head  and  looking  at  this  Char- 
lotte choked  a  little. 

"  It's  all  right,  said  Perry.  "  You 
couldn't  help  it,  you  know." 

An  awful  feeling  of  guilt  swept  over 
Charlotte.  And  partly  because  she  felt 

119 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

so  blameworthy,  and  partly  because  it 
was  the  natural  thing  for  her  to  do,  she 
dipped  her  handkerchief  in  the  brook 
and  began  to  bathe  the  bump  on  the  side 
of  Perry's  head. 

"  That's  better,"  he  said  in  a  stronger 
voice,  and  looking  at  her  more  atten- 
tively he  added :  "  You're  Miss  Marlin, 
aren't  you? " 

"  Yes,"  said  Charlotte,  her  voice 
growing  weaker  as  his  grew  stronger. 

"  The  girl  who  beat  Lady  Salisbury 
last  week? " 

"  Y-yes." 

"  Great  work! "  he  exclaimed.  "  By 
Jove,  I'm  proud  you  knocked  me  out." 

He  held  out  his  hand,  smiling  already 
as  he  thought  of  himself  telling  the  story 
to  his  friends,  and  little  dreaming  what 
coals  of  fire  he  was  heaping  on  poor 
Charlotte's  head.  Indeed,  if  it  hadn't 
been  for  the  listening  group  around 
them  she  would  have  confessed  to  him 
then  and  there.  They  started  back  to 
120 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

the  clubhouse,  and  then  for  the  first  time 
Charlotte  began  to  look  attentively  at 
him. 

He  was  a  tall  young  man  with  com- 
manding features,  and  although  his  eyes 
looked  tired  he  had  a  somewhat  peremp- 
tory manner. 

"  I  guess  it's  because  he's  so  rich,*' 
thought  Charlotte.  "  And  to  think  that 
I  nearly  killed  him!"  For  the  third 
time  she  felt  the  impulse  to  confess  what 
she  had  done ;  and  for  the  third  time  she 
repressed  it.  "  They'd  only  stand 
around  and  stare  and  listen,"  she 
thought.  "  I  can  do  it  just  as  well  some 
other  time." 

But  although  she  saw  him  the  next 
day — and  the  next  but  one — and  the 
next  after  that,  somehow  Charlotte 
could  never  quite  bring  herself  to  the 
point  of  telling  him  what  she  had  done. 
Meantime,  whenever  he  saw  her,  Perry 
Graham  became  more  and  more  inter- 
ested in  her,  first  because  she  was  Char- 

121 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

lotte,  and  second  because  she  was  a 
celebrity,  and  third,  without  a  doubt  in 
the  world,  because  she  was  a  new  experi- 
ence to  him  and  acted  like  a  tonic  to  his 
system. 

Because,  when  all  is  said  and  done, 
it  would  be  unfair  to  Charlotte  if  you 
received  the  idea  that  she  was  nothing 
except  a  scheming  little  thing  who  went 
around  seeking  whom  she  might  devour. 
Outside  of  her  doing  of  the  Three 
Famous  Sums,  she  was  an  unusually 
sweet  and  wholesome  little  body,  with 
deeply  tender  eyes,  expressive  eyebrows 
and  a  bashful  manner,  but,  oh,  so  eager 
to  live,  so  sincerely  in  love  with  life !  It 
was  those  qualities  of  naivete  and  en- 
thusiasm and  sincerity  which  drew  Perry 
Graham's  thoughts  more  and  more  often 
to  the  girl  who  had  learned  her  first 
profound  lesson  of  life  from  the  story  of 
Micah's  apple  tree. 

The  girls  he  had  known  before  had 
been  brought  up  in  familiarity  with 
122 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

practically  everything  he  could  offer 
them;  but  it  was  all  so  new  to  Char- 
lotte, and  the  interest  she  felt  showed  in 
her  cheeks  and  her  eyes — a  heartborn 
glow  and  sparkle  which  did  him  good 
to  see. 

"  If  he  hadn't  been '  courted  to  death,' 
as  Mr.  Ogilvie  says,"  murmured  Char- 
lotte rather  breathlessly  one  night,  "  I 
do  believe  I'd  have  a  chance.  But  I 
must  never  let  him  dream  that  I  care  for 
him  the  least  little  bit,  or  he'll  think  I'm 
just  like  all  the  others." 

So,  half  consciously  and  half  instinc- 
tively, whenever  Perry  showed  his  grow- 
ing liking  for  her,  she  drew  back;  and 
the  more  she  drew  back,  the  more  he 
pressed  forward  in  his  pursuit  of  a  new 
experience;  and  the  more  he  pressed 
forward,  the  longer  Charlotte  lay  awake 
when  the  rest  of  the  household  were 
asleep,  thinking  things  over  in  her  sage, 
old-fashioned  way. 

"  I  wish  he  didn't  have  that  tired  look 

123 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

in  his  eyes  when  he  thinks  nobody  is 
noticing  him,"  she  thought  one  night. 
"  I  suppose  it's  because  he's  so  awfully 
rich;  he's  always  had  everything  he 
wants  and  he  soon  gets  tired  of  things. 
And  perhaps  if — if  he  had  me,  he'd  soon 
get  tired  of  me  too.  .  .  ." 

She  drew  a  deep  sigh.  "  Neil  wasn't 
that  way,"  she  thought.  "  I'd  never 
have  to  worry  about  Neil." 

"  It's  all  so  different  down  here,"  she 
continued.  "  Down  here  all  the  sums 
seem  to  be  in  money  and  things  like 
that,  but  up  home — !  Now,  take  Perry. 
If  he  wants  to  enjoy  himself  he's  got  to 
be  dressed  just  so,  and  he's  got  to  have 
his  car  and  somebody  to  amuse  him, 
and  he's  got  to  have  a  lot  of  money  in 
his  pocket,  and  then  go  somewhere  and 
spend  it.  If  he  had  nothing  except  one 
old  suit  of  clothes  and  was  dropped  sud- 
denly in  a  strange  country  somewhere 
without  any  money,  and  was  told  to  en- 
joy himself,  he  wouldn't  have  the  least 

124 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIBL 

idea  of  how  to  go  about  it.  Without 
money  he's  nothing." 

She  drew  another  deep  sigh.  "  Neil 
isn't  that  way,"  she  thought.  "  Money 
isn't  everything  to  Neil." 

"  If  I  could  only  help  Perry  in  some 
way,"  she  went  on,  "  I  wouldn't  feel 
like  this.  Because  what's  a  wife  for,  if 
she  can't  help  her  husband?  Now  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Phair  weren't  rich  when  they 
married,  and  so  she  was  able  to  help  him. 
That's  one  reason,  I  guess,  why  they  feel 
so  proud  of  each  other  now.  But  Perry 
— what  could  I  do  for  Perry  ?  Nothing ! 
I'd  just  feel  that  I  was  tagging  on 
behind." 

She  sighed  again  at  that.  "  Neil  isn't 
that  way,"  she  thought.  "  I'd  never  feel 
that  I  was  tagging  on  to  Neil." 

"  Oh,  well,"  she  concluded,  "  maybe 
I'm  like  the  fox  and  the  grapes.  For 
one  thing,  Perry  hasn't  asked  me,  and 
just  for  that  perhaps  I  think  his  grapes 


are  sour." 


125 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

Her  mind  went  back  to  the  time  when 
Neil  had  asked  her  and  she  had  run 
away;  and  then  she  began  thinking  of 
Aunt  Hepzibah,  and  Micah's  tree,  and 
Dame  Johnson,  and  Miss  Hawley  and 
the  Faithful  Seven.  And  before  she 
knew  it  she  had  such  a  homesick  feeling 
come  over  her  that  she  cried  a  little,  as 
homesick  girls  have  cried  since  time 
immemorial. 

"  I  might  have  known  there  was 
something,"  she  thought  next  morning. 

A  letter  had  come  from  Aunt  Hepzi- 
bah, and  Aunt  Hepzibah  hadn't  been 
feeling  well  for  the  last  few  days ; "  noth- 
ing much  the  matter,"  she  wrote, 
"  but  I'm  dreadful  low-spirited — one  of 
my  spells,  I  guess." 

"  I'm  afraid  I  shall  have  to  go  home 
to-morrow,"  announced  Charlotte,  look- 
ing up  from  reading  her  letter. 

Mrs.  Phair  tried  to  dissuade  her,  and 
so  did  Perry  when  he  called  in  the 
evening. 

126 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

But  Charlotte  wasn't  old-fashioned 
for  nothing.  "  I  feel  I  ought  to  go," 
she  said. 

At  that,  Mrs.  Phair  gave  her  husband 
one  of  her  significant  glances,  and  they 
went  out  on  the  veranda,  leaving  Perry 
and  Charlotte  together. 

"  Did  you  notice  him,  Joe? "  whis- 
pered Mrs.  Phair,  outside. 

"  Notice  who?  "  whispered  back  Mr. 
Phair,  with  a  fine  disregard  for 
grammar. 

"  Perry  Graham,  of  course!  At  first 
I  hated  to  think  of  Charlotte's  going; 
but  now  I  can  see  it's  the  very  best  thing 
she  could  do.  It's  going  to  bring  Perry 
to  the  point." 

"You  think  so?" 

"  Joe,  I  know  it!  And  the  best  thing 
that  could  happen  to  him,  too.  Of 
course  everybody  thinks  he  ought  to 
marry  a  girl  with  a  lot  of  money.  But 
that's  all  nonsense,  when  he's  got  so 
much  of  his  own.  Besides,  it  isn't  as  if 

127 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

Charlotte  was  nobody.  Not  after  the 
way  she  beat  Lady  Salisbury!  And 
she's  a  good  little  thing,  and  a  straight 
little  thing,  and  wouldn't  waste  a  dollar 
of  Perry's  money  to  the  longest  day  she 
lived.  I  can  tell  he's  been  thinking  about 
it,  too.  Trust  a  woman  to  know  such 
things  1  Now,  Joe,  you  mark  my  words : 
If  those  two  aren't  married  before 
Thanksgiving  I  miss  my  guess!  " 

Perry  stayed  late  that  night,  and  be- 
fore he  left  he  had  promised  to  take 
Charlotte  to  the  station  next  day  in  time 
to  catch  the  two  o'clock  train. 

"  We'll  start  about  noon,"  he  said, 
"  so  you'll  have  time  to  come  home  and 
have  lunch  with  me.  I'll  ask  my  Cousin 
Fanny  to  telephone  you  first  thing  in 
the  morning.  She's  a  cousin  of  my 
mother's,"  he  explained,  "  and  has  been 
keeping  house  for  me  the  last  two  years." 

Mrs.  Phair  grew  very  arch  after  his 
departure. 

128 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

"  Do  you  like  him,  Charlotte? "  she 
suddenly  asked  next  morning. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know."  Charlotte  was 
putting  her  hat  on  while  Perry  waited 
in  his  car  outside.  "  Why?  " 

"  Because  he's  very  fond  of  you." 

'  What  makes  you  think  so?  "  asked 
Charlotte,  blushing  for  all  that. 

'  Why,  you  dear  little  goose,  any- 
body can  see  it.  If  he  wasn't,  do  you 
think  he'd  be  taking  you  home  to 
lunch? " 

Charlotte  said  nothing;  but  after  she 
had  bade  the  Phairs  good-bye,  which 
wasn't  done  in  a  minute  or  in  any  per- 
functory manner,  she  went  out  to  the 
waiting  car,  still  blushing,  her  heart  still 
warm  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Phair,  her  eyes 
luminous  with  youth  and  love  and 
success. 

"  You  do  look  sweet  this  morning," 
said  Perry  as  he  threw  in  the  starting 
lever.  It  was  the  first  time  he  had  paid 

9  129 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

her  a  direct  compliment,  and  she  pre- 
tended not  to  notice  it. 

"  Isn't  it  a  lovely  day? "  she  said 
instead. 

It  was,  indeed,  a  beautiful  day,  with 
the  sky  never  so  blue  and  the  trees  never 
so  green,  and  the  road  winding  in  and 
out  among  scenes  so  picturesque  that  it 
reminded  Charlotte  of  a  gallery  hung 
with  immortal  masterpieces. 

She  felt  so  full  of  happiness  at  the 
wonderful  day  and  her  wonderful  sum- 
mer that  she  grew  radiant,  as  though  her 
spark  of  life  had  spread  into  a  visible 
glow.  Looking  at  her  Perry  suddenly 
nodded  to  himself.  The  next  moment 
he  had  reached  over  and  taken  one  of 
her  hands. 

Charlotte  dropped  from  the  clouds  to 
the  earth,  and  drew  her  hand  away. 

"Don't!  "she  said. 

"Why  not?" 

"  I  don't  like  it." 

She  sat  as  far  away  from  him  as  she 

180 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

could,  her  joy  in  the  day  overcast  by 
those  sage,  old-fashioned  thoughts  which 
had  come  to  her  the  other  night.  By 
her  side,  both  his  hands  on  the  wheel 
again,  Perry  seemed  to  be  thinking  of 
something  very  hard  indeed. 

"  And  now,"  thought  Charlotte,  "  if 
he's  like  I  think  he  is,  he'll  want  to  do  it 
all  the  more.  Oh,  dear!  I  shall  have 
to  tell  him — I  shall  have  to  tell  him  how 
I  knocked  him  down  that  day  on 
purpose." 

But  the  more  she  tried  to  tell  him,  the 
harder  it  seemed;  and  a  few  minutes 
later,  when  Perry  came  out  of  his  silence 
with  the  air  of  a  man  who  has  made  a 
great  resolution,  she  weakly  decided  to 
let  well  enough  alone. 

"  How  chatty  he  is,  all  at  once!  "  she 
couldn't  help  thinking. 

A  little  later  when  he  began  to  sing 
the  chorus  of  an  old  song,  she  was  al- 
most too  surprised  to  join  in.  She  did 
join  in,  though,  and  after  they  had  sung 

131 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

all  the  old  songs  they  knew,  Perry 
laughed  aloud  and  screeched  his  horn  at 
nothing.  "  I  do  feel  good  this  morning, ' ' 
he  said. 

She  didn't  have  the  heart  to  tell  him 
then. 

They  rolled  upon  the  ferry,  and  the 
boat  began  to  cross  the  Thames.  Under 
this  new  excitement  Charlotte  found 
enchantment  was  returning  to  the  day. 

"  I  told  them  to  have  lunch  ready  at 
one,"  he  said,  looking  at  his  watch. 
"  We'll  be  just  in  time."  And  seeing 
that  Charlotte  was  admiring  the  scene 
on  the  river,  he  added:  "  This  is  nothing 
to  the  view  from  the  house.  You  wait." 

She  didn't  have  long  to  wait. 

The  Graham  house  is  one  of  the  show 
places  of  Pequot  Avenue  even  as  Pequot 
Avenue  is  one  of  the  show  places  of  Con- 
necticut; and  when  the  car  rolled  in  at 
the  gate,  a  feeling  that  was  close  to  awe 
stole  over  Charlotte.  She  looked  out 
orer  the  harbor  with  its  yachts  anchored 

13? 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

in  the  blue  water;  she  looked  at  the 
grounds  around  the  house,  gay  with 
flowers  and  restful  with  trees  and  lawns ; 
she  looked  at  the  house  itself — a  mag- 
nificent piece  of  architecture  in  gray 
stone  and  red  tiles.  A  gardener  was 
raking  leaves.  Another  was  trimming 
a  flower  bed.  A  butler  opened  the  door. 

"  Make  yourself  at  home,"  said  Perry, 
frowning  as  he  looked  around.  '  This 
is  the  library.  I'll  be  back  soon." 

But  instead  of  going  into  the  library 
she  walked  along  the  hall  to  look  at  the 
painting  which  hung  over  the  fireplace. 

"  How  beautiful  everything  is!  "  she 
thought.  "  It's  like  a  picture  in  a  maga- 
zine, though  I  never  saw  a  picture  one- 
half  as  pretty  as  this." 

She  stopped  to  look  at  a  bronze 
statuette  at  the  bottom  of  the  stairs,  and 
while  she  stood  there  she  heard  Perry's 
voice  coming  from  above. 

"  I  told  you  one  o'clock,"  he  was  say- 
ing in  an  angry  voice. 

133 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

A  faint  murmur  answered  him. 

"  Well,  you  thought  wrong,  and  not 
the  first  time,  either,"  he  retorted.  A 
curious  screeching  sound  interrupted 
him.  "  Oh,  for  heaven's  sake  1 "  he  cried. 
"Choke  that  parrot!" 

Downstairs,  Charlotte  stiffened  with 

indignation.    "  The  idea!  "  she  thought. 

'  Talking  to  his  mother's  cousin  like 

that !    I'd  like  to  hear  him  talk  that  way 

to  me!" 

When,  a  few  minutes  later,  Perry 
strolled  out  with  her  to  show  her  the 
flowers,  she  had  made  up  her  mind  ex- 
actly what  to  do,  and  was  casting  around 
in  her  mind  for  the  opening  phrase.  "  I'll 
soon  stop  all  this!  "  she  told  herself. 

Perry  had  led  her  to  a  rose  arbor  at 
the  back  of  the  house,  and  was  break- 
ing off  large  clusters  of  Dorothy  Per- 
kinses with  the  prodigal  actions  of  a 
nervous  young  man  who  had  something 
on  his  mind  and  didn't  know  quite  how 
to  begin  it. 

184 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

"  Say,  Charlotte,"  he  said  at  last,  "  I 
think  a  lot  of  you ;  do  you  know  it?  " 

"  You  shouldn't,"  she  hurriedly 
answered. 

"Shouldn't  I?    Why  not?" 

"  Because  I'm  going  home  this  after- 
noon— for  good/' 

"  For  good? "  he  asked,  looking 
puzzled  at  her  emphasis.  "  What  for?  " 

Those  midnight  fears  came  crowding 
forward  for  expression;  but  midnight 
fears  are  not  to  be  lightly  related  when 
the  sun  is  shining  and  a  disputatious 
young  man  is  waiting,  frowning,  to  con- 
tradict every  word  you  say. 

"  What  for?  "  he  repeated. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know." 

"But  I  want  to  know!" 

"Well,  for  one  thing,"  said  Char- 
lotte, "I'm  happier  up  there  and  more 
useful.  Down  here,  it's  like  a  vacation 
all  the  time  and,  though  I  don't  pretend 
to  know  an  awful  lot,  I'm  sure  that  life 
ought  to  mean  more  than  that.  Then 

135 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

again,  down  here — it's  all — all  make- 
believe — somehow — but  up  there  every- 
thing is  so  real  "  She  stopped, 

lamely  enough,  knowing  she  could  never 
give  him  the  other  reasons.  How  could 
she  tell  him,  for  instance,  that  she,  a 
little  country  school-ma'am,  didn't  feel 
safe  in  trusting  her  happiness  to  one  of 
the  handsomest  and  richest  young  men 
in  the  whole  United  States?  Or  how 
could  she  tell  him  about  Neil  ?  Or  about 
such  things  as  Little  Miss  Moses  and 
her  pilgrimage  to  the  Promised  Land? 

"  You  mean  to  say  this  isn't  real?  " 
asked  Perry,  sweeping  his  arm  around 
to  the  house  and  grounds. 

Charlotte  buried  her  face  in  the  roses 
he  had  given  her  and  shook  her  head. 

"  And  that's  why  you  don't  want  it," 
he  asked  incredulously — "  because  it 
isn't  real?" 

For  the  moment  she  almost  felt  her 
heart  stop  beating,  so  close  was  she  to 
the  realization  of  her  Third  Great  Sum. 

136 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

"  But  if  I  won  this,"  she  thought,  "  I 
believe  I'd  lose  everything  else — and — 
and — well,  it  isn't  worth  it ;  that's  all  1 " 

So,  heeding  at  last  the  voice  of  Con- 
science, she  told  him  how  she  had 
knocked  him  down  with  the  golf  ball, 
and  gave  him  so  much  food  for  thought 
that  he  was  still  digesting  it  in  mingled 
surprise  and  admiration  when  he  took 
Charlotte  to  the  station  and  walked  up 
and  down  the  platform  with  her  while 
they  waited  for  the  train. 

"  You're  a  great  little  girl;  do  you 
know  it?  "  he  asked. 

Charlotte  buried  her  face  in  the  roses 
again,  but  said  nothing. 

"  One  thing  I  can't  understand, 
though,  is  why  you  did  it.  Was  it  just 
for  fun?  " 

"  N-no,"  she  said.  "  It — it  was  a 
sum." 

"  A  sum?  "  he  asked  in  astonishment. 
"  What  do  you  mean — a  sum?  " 

She  thought  it  over  while  they  walked 

137 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

to  the  end  of  the  platform,  and  partly 
perhaps  because  it  had  relieved  her  to 
tell  him  about  the  golf  ball,  she  told  him 
also  of  her  Three  Great  Sums — told 
him  as  quickly  as  she  could,  especially 
toward  the  end  when  the  train  came  puf- 
fing into  the  station. 

"  Great  Scott  1 "  he  muttered  when 
she  had  ended. 

They  hurried  to  the  waiting  train 
together. 

"  Good-bye,"  she  said,  shyly  holding 
out  her  hand. 

They  shook  hands;  and  the  last  Char- 
lotte saw  of  him  he  was  standing  on  the 
platform  staring  thoughtfully  after  the 
departing  train. 


CHAPTER  IX 

"I'M  glad  we  parted  friends," 
thought  Charlotte,  settling  back  in  her 
seat,  "  and  I'm  glad  it's  all  over.  It  was 
like  that  story  of  the  boy  who  was  caught 
in  the  rapids  while  playing  in  the  water ; 
but,  thank  goodness!  I  was  able  to  get 
back  to  the  shore  in  time."  She  re- 
laxed and  let  her  eyes  rest  on  the 
smoothly  flowing  scenery  outside. 

"  I  wonder  how  'Aunt  Hepzibah  is," 
she  murmured  to  herself.  "  And  Dame 
Johnson,  and  Miss  Hawley,  and  the 
children.  And  I  wonder  if  Margaret's 
getting  on  any  better  with  her  husband. 
And — and — and  I  wonder  how  Neil  is. 
I'll  drop  in  and  see  Aunt  Grace  before 
starting  for  home.  She  always  knows 
the  news.  And  perhaps  I'll  see  Neil 
around  somewhere,  too." 

The  train  reached  Penfield  at  a  quar- 

139 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

ter  past  four;  and  as  Charlotte  walked 
up  the  street  to  her  aunt's  house,  it  gave 
her  a  pleasant  sense  of  content  to  see  the 
people  whom  she  knew  so  well. 

"  I  wonder  what  they'll  say  about  the 
championship,"  she  thought.  "  Here 
comes  Mr.  Evans.  I  wonder  if  he'll 
want  to  stop." 

But  Mr.  Evans,  the  ice  man,  passed 
right  on  with  a  friendly  "  Hello 
Charlotte." 

"  And  here  comes  Deacon  Kingsley, 
as  busy  as  ever,"  she  thought.  "  Surely 
he'll  say  something." 

But  all  the  busy  deacon  had  to 
say  was  a  busy  "  How  do  you  do, 
Charlotte?" 

She  began  to  think  it  over.  "  I  sup- 
pose it's  because  they  take  me  as  a  mat- 
ter of  course,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  just 
the  same  as  I  take  them.  For  all  I 
know,  Mr.  Evans  may  be  the  best  fox 
hunter  in  Windham  County,  and 
Deacon  Kingsley,  the  champion  checker 

140 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

player.  But  they're  both  so  busy  with 
the  real  sums  of  life  that  they  haven't 
time  to  bother  with  the  little  ones,  and 
don't  take  them  seriously.  And  there 
I  believed  I  was  coming  home  famous !  " 
she  thought,  and  added:  "  Why,  I  don't 
believe  they've  even  heard  about  it." 

But  Aunt  Grace  had  heard  about  it. 
"  How  well  you're  looking!  "  she  said. 
"  No  wonder  I  hardly  knew  your  picture 
in  the  paper  when  Margaret  showed  it 
to  me." 

So  then,  of  course,  they  began  to  talk 
about  Charlotte's  pretty  cousin. 

"Poor  Margaret!"  sighed  Aunt 
Grace.  "  She's  not  very  happy,  I'm 
afraid.  Willis  was  such  a  good  husband 
at  first.  But  the  last  year  Margaret's 
been  left  alone  in  that  big  house  for 
weeks  at  a  time.  She  talks  about  com- 
ing home  this  winter,  but  I  declare  I 
don't  know  what  to  do." 

"  How's  Doctor  Kennedy  getting 
along? "  asked  Charlotte  (oh,  ever  so 

141 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

carelessly  I)  when  she  had  asked  about 
everybody  else. 

For  the  first  time  Aunt  Grace  showed 
signs  of  enthusiasm.  "  He's  certainly 
a  clever  doctor,"  she  said,  "  and  knows 
just  how  to  handle  my  neuralgia.  Last 
May  he  cured  Fred  Waller  of  his 
jaundice;  and  you  know  Mrs.  Latham, 
who  was  bed-ridden  so  long? — well,  he 
had  her  up  and  out  again  in  no  time; 
and  since  then  he's  had  nearly  all  the 
practice  he  can  handle.  Last  month  he 
rented  Doctor  Baldwin's  old  house,  fur- 
nished, but  he's  still  taking  his  meals  at 
Mrs.  Potter's." 

With  heightened  color  Charlotte 
started  up  the  street  toward  Mr.  Briggs' 
livery  stable  and,  thinking  of  the  things 
which  her  aunt  had  told  her,  she  looked 
curiously  at  the  big  house  on  top  of  the 
hill  where  her  pretty  cousin  lived. 

"  Poor  Margaret ! "  she  thought. 
"  Willis  has  probably  found  her  out. 
'And  when  a  man  is  attracted  to  a  girl 

142 


because  of  her  looks,  after  a  while  he's 
just  as  apt  to  be  attracted  by  another 
girl  because  of  her  looks.  Perhaps 
Margaret  has  found  that  out."  She 
looked  at  the  big  house  with  growing 
sympathy.  "  I  guess  if  the  truth  were 
known,"  she  thought,  "  most  of  these 
beautiful  heroines  end  that  way.  Every- 
body spoils  them  up  to  a  certain  point, 
and  then  the  poor  girls  have  to  suffer 
for  it.  They  can  have  their  looks.  I'm 
glad  I'm  smart,  instead " — she  con- 
tinued up  the  street  toward  Mr.  Briggs' 
livery  stable — "  if  I  am  smart,"  she 
thoughtfully  added. 

Following  this  reflection  she  looked 
over  to  where  Doctor  Baldwin's  old 
house  stood,  back  on  its  maple-shaded 
lawn. 

"  I'm  glad  Neil's  getting  on  so  well," 
she  thought.  Her  mind  went  back  to 
that  afternoon  when  she  had  run  away 
from  him.  "  I  thought  I  was  doing 
something  smart,  then,"  she  ruefully 

143 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

laughed  to  herself.  "  Poor  Neil!  Treat- 
ing him  like  that  just  because  he  wasn't 
a  millionaire ! " 

She  walked  very  slowly,  as  though 
she  was  in  no  hurry  to  view  Mr.  Briggs' 
enormous  mustache,  and  once,  when  a 
car  came  rushing  up  the  hill  behind  her, 
she  quickly  turned  to  see  who  it  was. 
But,  though  the  car  made  a  noise  like 
the  Little  Rattler,  it  wasn't  the  doctor. 

"  I  wonder  what  his  office  hours  are," 
she  thought.  "  I  wonder  if  they're 
printed  on  his  sign." 

She  crossed  the  street  and  walked 
back  down  the  hill,  as  though  she  had 
remembered  an  errand  at  Kingsley's 
store. 

"  '  Office  hours— Five  to  six, '  "  she 
read  on  the  sign.  "  Its  nearly  five  now, 
so  I  may  see  him  somewhere." 

At  Kingsley's  she  bought  a  spool  of 
thread  and  started  up  the  street  again, 
as  through  she  had  remembered  another 
errand,  this  time  at  Dearnley  &  Clark's. 

144 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

Two  cars  passed  her,  Charlotte  turning 
to  look  at  each,  but  neither  was  the  Little 
Rattler.  "  He  may  be  delayed  on  a 
case,"  she  thought,  and  going  in  to 
Dearnley  &  Clark's  she  bought  a  yeast 
cake. 

A  number  of  customers  were  in  the 
store,  and  when  Charlotte  finally  came 
out  the  Little  Rattler  was  standing  in 
front  of  the  doctor's  house,  and  she 
caught  sight  of  Neil  disappearing 
through  the  office  door. 

"  I  guess  I'd  better  go  home,"  she 
thought,  her  heart  sinking.  "  If  I  had 

met  him  on  the  street  I  wouldn't  have 

t 

minded.  But  to  go  after  him  in  his  of- 
fice, after  what  I  did  that  afternoon — 
oh,  I  never,  never  could!  I'll  have  to 
wait  for  another  chance." 

Walking  with  resolution  she  went  to 
Briggs'  Livery  Stable,  and  came  out  a 
few  minutes  later  in  the  red-wheeled 
buggy,  Mr.  Briggs  seated  by  her  side, 

10  145 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

driving  with  dignity  behind  his  enor- 
mous mustache. 

"  What  a  great,  silly  thing  you  are," 
Charlotte  told  herself,  "  running  away 
from  Neil  like  this!  Perhaps  you'll 
never  see  him  again — till  some  bold 
thing  has  gone  and  married  him!  " 

"  I  don't  care,"  thought  Charlotte. 

"  Yes,  you  do !  "  she  almost  passion- 
ately told  herself.  "Else  why  have  you 
been  thinking  about  him  so  much 
lately? " 

"  Well,  I  don't  care,"  she  thought. 
"  A  girl  has  her  pride." 

"  And  how  about  his?  "  she  asked  her- 
self. "  Don't  you  suppose  he  had  any 
pride,  or  any  feelings,  either,  that  after- 
noon when  you  ran  away  and  left  him 
there  because  you  thought  he  wasn't 
good  enough?  Oh,  Charlotte,  Char- 
lotte! "  she  sadly  continued  as  the  buggy 
crossed  the  railroad  tracks.  "  You,  who 
used  to  think  yourself  so  smart,  and  set 
yourself  such  sums !  " 

146 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

'  Yes,  and  I  am  smart." 

"  Well,  then!  Well,  then!  "  she  im- 
patiently cried  to  herself,  and  the  next 
moment  she  spoke  aloud  to  Mr.  Briggs, 
saying:  "  Stop  a  minute,  please!  I  for- 
got something  at  Doctor  Kennedy's. 
We'll  have  to  go  back." 

Neil  had  a  number  of  patients  in  his 
reception  room  when  Charlotte  walked 
in,  and  a  number  of  others  came  in 
while  she  was  waiting  there.  At  last 
her  turn  arrived,  and  in  she  went,  a  de- 
mure, old-fashioned  figure,  but  her  heart 
beating  "  Boom  .  .  .  Boom  .  .  . 
Boom  .  .  ."  like  a  little  bass  drum. 

"  Why,  what  a  stranger! "  said  Neil, 
after  the  first  stare  of  surprise. 

They  shook  hands  in  a  manner  that 
wasn't  far  from  being  formal,  and  he 
congratulated  her  on  winning  the  cham- 
pionship. Charlotte  was  seated  in  the 
patient's  chair,  tongue-tied,  nervous, 
wondering  why  on  earth  she  had  ever 
come,  her  heart  no  longer  Booming  but 

147 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

feeling  heavy,  out  of  all  proportion  to 
its  size.  Nor  did  it  help  her  when  Neil 
stopped  talking  and  waited  for  her  to 
speak. 

"  I — I  had  a  letter  from  Aunt  Hep- 
zibah  the  other  day,"  began  Charlotte. 
"  She  wasn't  feeling  very  well.  I — I 
was  wondering  whether  you'd  come 
over  to  Marlin  Mills  and  see  her." 

"  Why,  certainly,"  said  the  young 
physician,  glancing  at  his  engagement 
card.  "  Any  hurry?  " 

"  Well,"  hesitated  Charlotte.  "  I  was 
going  back  myself  this  afternoon.  And 
I  thought,  perhaps " 

"I  see,"  he  nodded.  "We'll  run 
right  over  as  soon  as  I'm  through  here. 
Say,  in  half  an  hour — will  that  do?  All 
right;  I'll  be  ready." 

Half  an  hour  later  she  bravely  re- 
turned to  the  doctor's.  Neil  must  have 
seen  her  from  the  window. 

"  Do  you  mind  waiting  another  ten 
minutes,  Charlotte?  "  he  asked,  coming 

148 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

to  the  door.  "I've  got  a  patient  in  the 
office  and  another  one  coming."  He  led 
her  into  the  front  room  and  placed  a 
chair  near  the  window.  "  Here's  a 
magazine,"  he  said;  "  I  shan't  be  long." 

But  Charlotte  didn't  care  about  read- 
ing. As  soon  as  Neil  had  gone,  she 
looked  around  the  room  as  though  it 
interested  her  more  than  any  fiction 
could  have  done.  It  was  a  large  room 
with  medallion  wall  paper,  and  the  fur- 
niture belonged  to  that  period  in  which 
Doctor  Baldwin  had  spent  his  young 
manhood — when  the  ladies  billowed  in 
crinolines,  and  the  gentlemen  supported 
silk  hats,  and  the  little  girls  wore  those 
plaited  pantalettes  and  rolled  their 
hoops  with  such  decorum. 

Telling  herself  that  she  wished  to  look 
at  the  pictures,  she  started  on  a  breath- 
less little  tour  of  investigation. 

"  What  a  state  everything's  in!  "  she 
thought.  "  I  don't  believe  the  furniture 
has  been  rubbed  for  years."  She  patted 

149 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

the  carpet  with  her  foot  and  an  eager 
little  whirl  of  dust  came  hurrying  out  to 
see  who  was  tapping.  "Poor  Neil!" 
thought  Charlotte.  "  It's  a  shame — the 
way  he's  being  neglected!  Working 
hard  all  day  and  then  coming  home  to  a 
place  like  this!  If  I  could  only  find  a 
duster " 

But  that,  of  course,  would  never  do, 
and  Charlotte  was  returning  to  her  chair 
by  the  window  when  she  happened  to 
look  through  an  open  door  into  the  next 
room.  It  was  a  library  with  a  marble 
fireplace,  and  a  pair  of  andirons  which 
were  probably  old  when  Washington 
was  a  boy.  But  after  one  look  Char- 
lotte had  no  eyes  for  the  marble  fire- 
place, nor  the  old  andirons,  nor  the  book- 
cases which  lined  the  walls.  Her  glance 
was  held,  as  though  mesmerized,  by  a 
silver  frame  on  the  desk — a  frame  which 
held  a  picture  of  herself  standing  side 
by  side  with  Lady  Salisbury! 

"Oh!    Oh!    Oh!  "she  gasped.    "So 

150 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

he  still  cares,  or  he  wouldn't  have  done 
that!  But  why  does  he  act  so  distant 
and  dignified? " 

It  didn't  take  her  long  to  find  a  plau- 
sible answer. 

"  Yes,"  she  thought,  "  it  must  be  his 
pride.  It's  because  I  ran  away  that 
afternoon;  and,  of  course,  he  doesn't 
know — that  I've  changed.  I  shall  have 
to  show  him,  somehow,  that  I'm  sorry 
I  ran  away — if  I  can — without  being 
bold." 

She  was  still  thinking  it  over  when 
Neil's  last  patient  went. 

"  Perhaps  if  I  give  him  an  awfully 
sweet  smile  when  he  comes  in,"  she 
thought—"  like  this." 

But  "  awfully  sweet  smiles "  had 
never  been  in  Charlotte's  line,  and  when 
she  practiced  one  her  face  felt  so  funny 
that  she  straightened  it  at  once  and 
frowned  to  herself  with  her  expressive 
eyebrows,  as  though  to  restore  the 
balance. 

151 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

Neil  came  in  at  the  same  moment  to 
say  he  was  ready. 

"  He'll  think  my  frown  was  meant 
for  him,"  thought  Charlotte,  her  heart 
sinking  again.  "  Oh  dear,  how  can  I 
let  him  know? " 

They  started  in  silence,  except  for 
the  noise  which  the  Little  Rattler  made, 
and  presently,  leaving  the  town  behind, 
they  turned  west  for  Marlin  Mills. 

"  I  can't  say  anything,"  thought 
Charlotte,  "  because  he  might  not  take 
it  right,  and  then  I'd  feel  humiliated  all 
the  rest  of  my  life.  Perhaps — if  I  sat 
a  little  closer " 

So  she  sat  a  little  closer,  which  re- 
quired more  downright  courage  on 
Charlotte's  part  than  the  whole  game 
which  she  had  played  with  Lady 
Salisbury. 

But  nothing  happened.  The  Little 
Rattler  roared  away  as  unconcernedly 
as  ever,  and  Neil  kept  his  eyes  fixed  on 
the  ruts  and  turns  ahead. 

152 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

"  Perhaps — if  I  sat  a  little  closer 
yet! "  thought  poor  Charlotte.  So  she 
screwed  her  courage  tighter  and  sat  a 
little  closer  yet,  but  the  only  thing  which 
happened — alas ! — was  that  Neil  moved 
farther  away,  as  though  to  give  her 
room. 

"  Crowded? "  he  shouted  above  the 
rattle  of  the  car,  his  eyes  still  fixed  on 
the  ruts  and  turns. 

"  N-no,"  said  Charlotte  in  a  faint 
voice.  "  I'm  all  right." 

As  imperceptibly  as  possible  she  re- 
turned to  her  end  of  the  seat  and  sat 
there,  feeling  like  a  rose  probably  feels 
when  a  foot  has  stepped  on  it. 

They  reached  the  place  where  the 
three  abandoned  houses  stood  next  to  the 
tumble-down  church — that  church  with 
its  roof  fallen  in  and  its  steeple  awry. 
The  sight  of  it  always  affected  Char- 
lotte, but  this  time  it  fairly  depressed 
her,  standing  there  like  an  omen,  a 

153 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

premonition  of  what  her  own  future 
might  be. 

"  We'll  be  there  in  a  few  minutes 
now,"  she  thought ; "  and  if  he  goes  away 
this  time " 

Her  mind  began  to  work  in  desperate 
haste. 

"  I  can't  propose  to  him,"  she  thought, 
a  queer  little  pain  in  her  breast;  "  and 
I  can't  lay  my  head  on  his  shoulder  and 
— and  start  crying !  Yet  I  do  believe  he 
cares,  or  why  would  he  have  that  picture 
on  his  desk? " 

"  Ask  him!  "  she  whispered  to  herself. 

"  I  don't  like  to,"  she  thought. 

"  Ask  him! "  she  sternly  repeated  to 
herself.  "  You  pride  yourself  on  being 
smart,  don't  you?  Well,  then — ask 
him!" 

She  drew  a  full  breath — such  a  full 
breath  that  you  might  have  expected 
her  to  burst  out  in  loud  exclamation. 
"  Neil!  "  she  whispered. 

The  Little  Rattler  drowned  it. 

154 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

"  Neil!  "  she  said  in  a  louder  voice. 

But  still  the  Little  Rattler  drowned 
it. 

"Neil!"  she  shouted  and,  to  make 
sure,  she  touched  his  arm  as  well. 

The  young  physician  immediately 
slowed  the  car,  but  although  the  Little 
Rattler  somewhat  abated  its  noise  he 
was  obliged  to  shout  to  make  him- 
self heard.  "  Did  you  speak?  "  he 
shouted. 

"Yes!"  shouted  back  Charlotte. 
"  When  I  was  waiting  for  you  I  saw 
my  picture  on  your  library  desk.  Why 
have  you  got  it  there?  " 

At  that  he  suddenly  stopped  the 
engine  and  such  a  silence  fell  that  all 
the  world  seemed  to  have  hushed  itself 
to  listen.  For  as  long  as  it  might  have 
taken  you  to  count  ten  Neil  looked  at 
her,  and  what  he  saw  in  her  eyes  I  can- 
not tell  you,  but  when  he  spoke  his  voice 
trembled  as  Charlotte  had  once  heard  it 
tremble  before. 

165 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

"  You  want  to  know?  "  he  asked. 

"  Yes,"  nodded  Charlotte,  not  trust- 
ing herself  to  speak. 

"  Because  I  think — and  have  always 
thought — that  you're  the  greatest  little 
girl  in  the  world.  Of  course,  I  know 
I've  got  no  chance  now,  but " 

Still  Charlotte  said  nothing,  but  she 
raised  those  expressive  eyebrows  of  hers 
as  though  to  say:  "You've  got  no 
chance?  .  .  .  Why,  Neil,  who  told 
you  that? " 

The  next  moment  one  of  his  arms 
had  slipped  around  her  waist  (which 
seemed  to  yield  itself  to  the  pressure, 
quite  in  the  immemorial  manner),  and 
his  other  hand  pressed  gently  against 
her  cheek  so  that  she  couldn't  turn  her 
head  away. 

"  Charlotte,"  he  said.  "  Listen:  If  I 
were  to  tell  you  I  love  you,  would  you 
run  away  again?  " 

"  Not  this  time,"  she  whispered,  find- 
ing her  voice  at  last. 

156 


THE  APPLE  TREE  GIRL 

They  kissed,  their  glances  melting  to- 
gether, and  in  that  moment  Charlotte 
knew  that  the  mission  of  The  Apple 
Tree  Girl  was  ended,  that  Little  Miss 
Moses  had  reached  the  Promised  Land. 


157 


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